To Another World
by Robin Sparrow
Summary: Sequel to Wonder What it's Like. After a year's separation from Jack and Aragorn, Robin & Erindi find themselves caught up once again in the webs of fate, love, and a goddess's debt. Complete!
1. Rangers Don't Need Directions

After my relatively brief vacation from fanfiction, I have returned with the much-anticipated sequel (at least, I hope it was much-anticipated ;) to my LotR/PotC/"Real World" crossover, _Wonder What it's Like_. And, as promised, I have begun with everyone's favorite characters, Jack and Aragorn. Read, review, and enjoy, mates!

**Disclaimer**: I own neither _Lord of the Rings_ nor _Pirates of the Caribbean_, nor any of the characters contained therein... though I'd like to.

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**Chapter One: Rangers Don't Need Directions**

"I was _not_ lost!"

Aragorn turned to face Jack, his wolfish grey eyes lit by a strange mixture of annoyance and wry amusement. "Jack, you were going in the wrong direction. Minas Tirith is east of us. You were headed west."

Jack glowered at him, his already black mood worsened by the aggravatingly calm tone of the Ranger's voice… and by the fact that Jack was forced to look _up_ to look him in the eye. He hated being reminded of anything that suggested Aragorn was better than him, _especially_ when it came to height. Jack wasn't what you would call short, but it did seem that most of the people he didn't get along with were taller (and broader) than he was – Barbossa, Davy Jones, Norrington, and now Aragorn. It normally wouldn't have bothered him this much (he told himself), but after an entire year of being stuck with the man in a world that only Aragorn knew well enough to navigate efficiently, every little thing seemed to get under his skin. It didn't help that he still hadn't gotten over Robin… and he suspected Aragorn hadn't forgotten Erindi, either.

That was exactly why, a few days earlier during a particularly heated argument over what they were going to eat for dinner, Jack had decided he could find his way to their current destination on his own, and had struck out during the night in what he knew (or, at least, thought he knew) was the right direction. Aragorn had apparently been tracking him the entire time, and had only just now caught up with him. Though Jack admitted to himself that, in retrospect, he probably should have known he'd get lost, he refused to say the same to Aragorn. "I was simply on my way to a detour that would've taken me to a path which would have gotten me to Minas Tirith twice as fast as your way."

Aragorn arched an eyebrow at him. "Jack, there are no paths this far east of the mountains."

"You mean, none that _you_ are aware of." Jack gave him a smug look, as if he, not Aragorn, was a King.

Aragorn sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. "As both the Captain of the Dunedain and the King of the Reunited Realm, it's vital that I know these lands perfectly by memory. You, however, don't even have a map." He opened his eyes again and gave Jack a hard look.

Jack appeared miffed. "I don't need a map."

"You also don't have a compass." Even as he said it, Aragorn could see from the look on Jack's face that he shouldn't have brought _that_ subject up again. Ever since they'd discovered that Jack's "unique" compass and Aragorn's dagger from Lothlorien had disappeared, Jack had insisted that it was his fault, though Aragorn failed to see the logic behind this decision. More than one disagreement had ended in a fight over whose fault it was the objects were missing, and they'd still not come to a definite conclusion on the matter, though Aragorn had long suspected that Eris, the goddess of chaos, probably was the one to blame. _Why_ she would take the compass and the knife, however, was a question he had found no answer to – and the goddess herself had failed to make an appearance of any kind since their return to Middle-Earth.

"That's because YOU lost it!" Jack retorted, breaking Aragorn's train of thought with the sharp tone of his voice.

Aragorn shook his head and, turning away from the irate pirate, began walking east again. "I refuse to have this conversation with you _again_, Jack. For the last time, I did not take your compass. As I've said before, it was probably Eris up to one of her tricks again. Now, walk – we've got a long way to go before we get to Minas Tirith."

Jack, still fuming, glared after him. As much as he hated to admit it, he _was_ lost, and he had a feeling the Ranger would leave him behind this time if he didn't follow. Unwilling to let his pride be bruised, he told himself he wasn't actually going to follow Aragorn, but rather, out of the pure goodness of his heart, he was going to go along with him to protect him – because _everyone_ knows that Aragorn couldn't take care of himself on his own. Satisfied with this reasoning, he quickly caught up with Aragorn before the Ranger left his range of sight altogether.

"So you decided to come after all," Aragorn remarked, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

Jack raised an eyebrow at him haughtily. "It's for your own good."

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Because I need your protection, right?" he asked sarcastically.

Jack smiled condescendingly at him. "Exactly."

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Did it ever occur to you that you are possibly the most annoyingly flamboyant and arrogant person I know in two worlds?"

Jack, taken aback by the unforeseen insult, grimaced darkly at Aragorn. "At least I don't have fifty different names – all of which, I might add, sound fairly stupid."

It was Aragorn's turn to scowl. It was true he was called different things in different places, and it was also true that he would definitely not have chosen certain ones, had he had a say in the matter. Strider, he knew, sounded more like a dog's name than a man's, and Wingfoot… well, he was still trying to figure out how to get Eomer back for that one. "My names reflect who I am."

Jack smirked. "You mean like Estel? I still say that sounds like a woman's name. Are you telling me you're a eunuch after all, then?"

Aragorn glared at him. "For the last time, Jack, it is _not_ a woman's name. It means hope!"

"Sure it does," Jack replied easily. "But you're still a eunuch."

"I am not a eunuch!" Aragorn shot back exasperatedly. He was beginning to truly question his decision to go after Jack instead of leaving him behind. "Why do I even bother talking to you?" he muttered under his breath, and continued to walk, telling himself that the sooner he got to Minas Tirith, the sooner he could have Jack publicly beheaded. Of course, in reality, he'd never actually do such a thing, it made him feel better at the moment to tell himself he would. Jack, grinning and congratulating himself on winning the argument, followed after, his earlier anger all but forgotten.


	2. A Change of Scenery

Oooh, looks like Robin's finally updating on a fairly regular basis - two chapters two weeks! Hopefully she'll have the third chapter up next weekend... and stop talking in third person. oO Unfortunately for you all, this chapter is all about Robin & Erindi... but please don't skip over it! It's pretty bloody important, and you'll need to read it to understand the rest of the story! So please, accept my apologies, read the chapter, and be comforted in the knowledge that you will definitely hear more from Jack and Aragorn in Chapter 3. I promise!

**Disclaimer**: I own neither LotR nor PotC nor Alice in Wonderland (you'll see). At least I own my interpretation of the goddess of chaos... yippee.

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**Chapter Two: A Change of Scenery**

Jack and Aragorn arrived at Minas Tirith nearly two months later, bedraggled and ready to kill each other, but otherwise unharmed. At about the same moment that they were riding through the gates to the White City, something magical was happening in Robin and Erindi's world, though they hadn't yet noticed it. They were standing together in Robin's bedroom, Erindi having been dragged in by Robin to critique a painting she was working on. "Robin, I _told_ you, it looks good!" Erindi said for the hundredth time that week.

Robin shook her head. "Something's wrong with it, I know it. I just can't figure out what it is. Are you sure you don't see anything?"

"Robin, all I see is a good painting you should put in your gallery before you mess it up!" It had been an entire year since their separation from Jack and Aragorn, and even though the wounds were scarring over, they were still quite visible, even to an outsider's eyes. Robin worried about everything she did, always feeling as if it wasn't good enough. Erindi, conversely, cared less and less about what she did or what happened to her, though she kept an eye out for Robin, and vice-versa. Aside from this change in attitude, Erindi had also noticed that, over the past months, both she and Robin had slowly been withdrawing from their other friends – not in an antisocial kind of way, but rather like friends who knew it was time to say goodbye, to move on, because they wouldn't be seeing each other again. Despite the fact that no one had moved or had any other reason for losing touch, they were drifting apart, and if she or Robin happened to suddenly move, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much as it would've before Eris had entered their lives. In fact, she realized as she thought it over, it did seem as if they were both getting ready to leave. Erindi's band had broken up recently (amicably, yes, but definitely permanently), and Robin had hired an assistant in her bookshop six months ago who would now be quite capable of taking Robin's place if she were to leave.

As Erindi was mulling this over, the corner of Robin's eye was caught by something strange. Frowning, she turned to face the source of her confusion – her mirror. At first glance, she saw nothing amiss, but as she took a closer look, her eyes widened with surprise. She saw herself in the mirror only as a ghostly image; through her own pale face, she saw not the room behind her, but something else entirely: a forest. Before her eyes, her own image faded, and the image of the forest became more distinct, until she could see it as clearly as if it were really a reflection of the space behind her.

"Robin, what's wrong?" Erindi asked, noticing her friend's sudden silence.

Rather than answering, Robin pointed at the mirror. Erindi gasped, glancing behind her instinctively to look for the forest that still was not there. "It's not supposed to do that," Robin murmured, stating the obvious as she sometimes had a tendency to do. Slowly, she reached a hand out to touch the glass. Her heart skipped a beat as her fingertips passed through the glass, causing it to ripple like the surface of a pool of water. The sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves echoed in the room until Robin withdrew her fingers again, her lips parted slightly in awe.

"What's going on?" Erindi whispered to no one in particular.

As if in reply, Robin and Erindi suddenly heard a laugh like the tinkling of a thousand bells above them. Craning their necks up in search of the source, their eyes lit upon a very familiar winged figure sitting upside down on the ceiling above them, completely defying all rules of gravity. "Eris," Erindi and Robin said together, their tones a mixture of surprise, joy, and apprehension.

The goddess smiled down at them, her teeth an almost blindingly perfect white. She looked much the same as she did the first time they'd met: a blend of sickeningly cheerfulness and pixie-like mischief. "Miss me?" she asked in her old high-pitched voice. Her purple eyes were aglow with amusement.

"Depends on why you've come back," Erindi replied honestly, having noted the absence of the goddess's wand, which she had used in previous encounters to inflict pain often.

Eris laughed again, and, doing a neat little summersault, landed gracefully between the two mortals and the suddenly magical mirror. "Is that any way to treat an old friend?" she chastised merrily.

Robin and Erindi shared a wary glance. Whenever Eris began beating around the bush, it was certain she had something important to say. "As much as we've pined over your absence," Robin began dryly, "we all know you only show up when something extremely… chaotic… is about to happen. So forgive us if we're a little impatient to know what it is."

"Silly mortal!" Eris flicked Robin's nose in a most annoying fashion. Robin grimaced but did not retaliate. "I'm getting there, don't you worry!"

"Do you think you could get there a little faster?" Erindi put in.

Eris raised an eyebrow at her, adopting the look she had often had in the past just before hitting someone over the head with her wand. This time, however, she seemed not to be in the mood to smack people, and she let the moment pass. "All right, mortal children, I shall tell you why I'm here." She paused for dramatic effect.

"Yes?" Robin prompted when the moment began to drag on.

Eris blinked, as if she'd been lost in thought, and continued. "I am here to give you a choice. You may stay here, _forever_, or you may discover what lies beyond the looking-glass." The goddess smiled at the familiar reference.

"I knew the mirror-thing seemed a bit familiar," Robin commented. "Although, the world on the other side of this mirror doesn't look like the mirror-world Alice saw."

"That's because it's not, silly!" Eris replied, also a master of stating the obvious. "This is another world entirely."

"We can see that," said Erindi edgily. "Would you mind telling us _which_ world?"

Eris smiled serenely at the query. "That is for me to know, my dears, and for you to find out." Giggling to herself, the goddess began to fade.

"Wait!" Robin exclaimed, a panicky edge to her voice. This was a life-changing decision, and knowing hardly anything about it was not making her feel any calmer about it. "If we step through, can we come back?"

Eris shook her head, her visage no more visible now than warm breath on a cold winter's day. "This is a one-time opportunity, an interminable contract. Take it or leave it!" And with that, she was gone.

Robin covered her face with her hands. "What are we going to do?"

Erindi stroked the brass edge of the mirror thoughtfully. "I think we should go," she answered after a long moment.

Robin looked through her fingers at her friend, her green eyes wide with worry and indecision. "But we don't even know where it is we're going to!"

Erindi shrugged. "So what? At any rate, it looks like a nice place to me. At least it's not another smog-choked city."

Robin's fingers slid from her face to clasp nervously in front of her stomach. "But… we can't come back…"

"Come back? Come back to what, Robin? Is there anything you'll really, truly miss here?" Though she knew the answer already – it was the same as her own – she knew Robin hadn't thought about it yet. She watched now as the expression on her friend's face transformed as she considered her options.

Slowly, a bit reluctant to admit it, Robin shook her head. "I… I guess you're right." She smiled almost sheepishly at Erindi. "So, what should we take?"

Quickly, the two of them grabbed each of their old backpacks from high school and packed away as much as they could carry that they felt they would need – clothing, some food, water bottles, and their journals. Robin frowned, however, when Erindi returned carrying not only her backpack, but her guitar case. "Erindi… do you really want to drag that for who knows how long through a bloody forest?"

Erindi glared at her defensively, and Robin sighed. She understood, even if it was impractical. She was taking her paint set along with her for the same reasons. Though her paints were certainly a lot _smaller_ than the guitar, she knew she wouldn't be able to convince Erindi to leave it behind.

"Wait," Robin said suddenly as Erindi stepped towards the mirror. Erindi sent her a questioning look.

Ignoring her, Robin hastily grabbed a pen and paper from her desk and began to write. "What are you doing?" Erindi asked softly.

Robin didn't answer right away, choosing to finish whatever she was writing before she replied. "It's a note to everybody, telling them why we left." She left the room for a moment to gently place the note on the table in the living room before returning to Erindi's side. "Now we can go."

Hesitating only for an instant, Erindi stepped up to the mirror and pushed her fingers through the surface, watching with fascination as the surface rippled once more. Sensing no danger as of yet, she shot a reassuring grin at Robin before stepping through to the other side. Robin watched anxiously for any sign of trouble, but when mirror-Erindi gave her a thumbs-up sign, it became evident she was all right. Glancing only once over her shoulder at the life she was leaving behind, she took a deep breath and followed her friend through the glass. Once she was safely through, the image in the mirror faded, and it became just another ordinary looking glass once again.


	3. The White City of Gondor

Wowsers, sorry for the long wait, mates. I really did expect to write a lot sooner than this - and a lot more. Blame Sims 2: Nightlife and the wonderful world of movies for my long absence - that, and _Lost_. But now I am returned (at the END of spring break... dammit), and I bring you a new chapter! And yes, Aragorn and Jack ARE in it again - and I promise you from now on they will be in it a LOT more than they have so far. It's just I needed to establish some things with my character and Erindi's character first... like how the bloody hell they got to another world. But now that they're here (or there... whatever), let the chaos commence! Bwahahahaha!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. The end.

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**Chapter Three: The White City of Gondor**

Robin and Erindi stood together in the forest in silence, marveling at the simple beauty of the place. Neither had been far from the constricting world of skyscrapers and paved roads for most of their lives. Now that they were here, they realized that, being in a new world, they basically had no past, for up until now they had not existed here. It was a little scary, especially since neither knew exactly where they were, and both knew better than to ask Eris for an answer. Rather than daunting them, however, this new feeling of tabula rasa gave them hope, something they had not truly felt since a year ago – a time as seemingly distant as their home-world was now. They could go back to neither, and they knew it, but they could hope that something good was waiting for them somewhere up ahead.

"Well, we've no map, and no idea whatsoever what world this might be. Which direction do you want to go?" Erindi queried, turning to Robin.

Robin was about to pick a random direction (which Erindi would most likely disagree with anyway) when she felt something move against her leg as she shifted her weight where she stood. Glancing down, she realized it was Jack's compass, attached to her belt as it had been ever since she'd found he'd left it behind for her – or, at least, since Eris had told her to keep it. She knew without looking Erindi had brought Aragorn's dagger as well, and it suddenly occurred to her that both would probably be very useful right about now.

She pulled the compass off of her belt loop and held it up, wondering what it would do. Back at home, she had opened it countless times only to find that it did not point north – in fact, as far as she could tell, it didn't point at anything at all. Whenever she'd looked at it, it had spun around and around, and she'd never been able to figure out why. As she looked at it now, she had little hope that it would do anything different, but she figured she might as well try it just in case.

She flicked the case open. The needle swung around to point in a decidedly easterly direction… and stopped. She blinked, frowned, and shook it a little, wondering if it had just gotten stuck or something. But the direction did not change.

"What are you doing?" Erindi asked, jerking her attention back to her surroundings. "I thought you said it was broken."

Robin shrugged. "I dunno. Back home, it never pointed at anything, but now…" She showed the heading to Erindi.

After a moment's thought, she shrugged. "Well, it's as good a direction as any."

"True enough. Come on, then," Robin said, and began to follow the compass needle, wondering just what it was pointing at, and why it worked in this world but not in her own.

The following month and a half taught Robin and Erindi a good deal about the world they were in. It was, in fact, mostly like their own – many of the animals were the same, and most of the plants were the same as well. It had the same rules of gravity and nature as their world did, and the flora and fauna of the forest presented the same hardships and dangers as any forest back home would have. However, they had not yet encountered any people, and so they still did not know where they were. Fortunately for the two of them, every forest has an end, and at the end of this particular forest, they found themselves looking at the most welcoming sight so far – a city. Love of forests and nature is one thing (one which they had), but knowledge of how to survive in them is another, and with only the packs on their backs and the dagger that hung on Erindi's belt, they had only barely kept above starving – especially since Erindi was a vegetarian. Cities, however, were full of food – as well as beds and baths and all sorts of wonderful things like that. It was the thought of this – and only this – that kept Erindi and Robin on their feet long enough to reach the gates of the city, and it was only as they stood waiting to be let in that they began to marvel at the color of the stone used to build the fortress-like place. It gleamed white, and was almost blinding where the sun shone directly on it.

Erindi groaned, hoping that it only _looked_ like every single bloody building in the place was white. When the guards at the gates led them through into the first level of the town (for it was built up on different layers, much like a wedding cake, with the royal castle sitting on the very top level), Erindi groaned again when she saw her hopes came to nothing. It was, literally, a white city.

Robin glanced down at her compass, which still resolutely pointed forwards. She glanced up, seeing the castle, and sighed. Whatever it was pointing at was, with her luck, in the castle – and even she wasn't foolish enough to believe she'd be going in there anytime soon.

Snapping the compass shut again, she turned to one of the guards who had escorted them in. They were dressed in Medieval-type uniforms of chain-mail and leather, and each had the design of a white tree on the front of their brown jerkins – the same symbol, she noted, that she saw on the flag above the castle. "Excuse me, er, sirs, but we're a bit lost. We just kind of happened to end up here. Could you tell us exactly where 'here' is?"

The guards gave her a funny look, and glanced at each other before responding. "This is Minas Tirith, the White City of Gondor." Mistaking Robin's silence for acceptance, rather than shock, they nodded to her politely and walked back to resume their posts at the gates.

Robin turned slowly to look at Erindi, an uncertain smile edging around the corners of her mouth. "Did he just say what I think he said?"

"We're in Middle-Earth," Erindi murmured, dazed. "We're literally in _Lord of the Rings_." She frowned. "But we don't know _when._"

Robin's momentary euphoria was replaced with concern. Erindi was right. They could be in the middle of the War of the Ring, for all they knew. They had to find out. Not bothering to stop and think about alternative ways to find her answer, Robin turned to the very next person to walk past her. "Excuse me," she said, touching the arm of a particularly large and burly man of about fifty. He turned and glanced down at her, and it was all she could do not to cringe. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Erindi run an exasperated hand over her face. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but could you tell me the date? I've been traveling for awhile and I'm not sure what today is."

The man replied with a date that, while it may have been extremely useful to anyone who lived in Gondor, meant next to nothing to Robin. "Run that by me again?"

The man sighed, as if he were dealing with a young child who he had no time for. "The fifth of June."

"Yes, but… what year is it?"

This time, the man gave her a funny look, much like the ones the guards gave her when she asked where she was. Robin began to worry he wouldn't answer, but at last he said, "It is 3027, Year 6 of the Fourth Age." Before she could question him further, he continued on his walk with the quick step of a man deeply concerned – quite understandable, really, considering someone had just asked him what _year_ it was.

Robin sighed in relief. "The war's been over for years now. Thank goodness." Though she'd always dreamed of actually being in the events of _Lord of the Rings_, she knew she was far from prepared for being thrust into something as dangerous and important as the War of the Ring. She turned to Erindi. "So what now?"

But Erindi was still frowning. "We don't have any money," she said simply.

It took Robin a moment to comprehend what she meant. "We…" The currency they'd brought back from California would be no good here. They were poor, they were starving… and they had nowhere to stay. "Oh, shit," Robin murmured.

Erindi's eyes glinted. She had not come all this way just to die when they had the means to survive right in front of them. She knew there was next to zero chance of anyone taking two such beggarly-looking people into their homes, and she knew the matted dirt, sweat, and blood on their foreign clothing did little to better their appearances. There was, however, another option. "We're going to have to steal, then." She didn't like it, but it was better than starving.

Robin stared at her. "But couldn't we…" Her suggestion of asking for a place to stay died on her lips when she took in just how ragged Erindi looked, and realized how much of a mess she was herself. "Surely _someone_ will take us in."

"I don't want to live off another person's savings."

One thing Robin had learned early on about Erindi was that she hated people pitying her almost as much as she hated charity. Asking a complete stranger to take care of them for who knows how long required both. Robin took a deep breath and nodded. "All right, so you're right. But, hell, what do you think the punishment is if we get caught."

Erindi raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't get caught." She glanced around, her eyes lighting up at the sight of a stable not far away. "Meet me in the stable in an hour. Try to get as much food as you can – and money, if you're able."

Robin didn't like the plan, but she knew it made sense, so she didn't protest. "I'll go right, you go left. Be careful." Erindi gave her a quick nod before disappearing down her path. Uncertainly, Robin followed her own way, praying they'd both make it to their rendezvous at the stables in an hour.

It wasn't long before Robin found herself facing a fairly commonplace restaurant, with tables outside as well as in. There weren't many people there that day, and she was beginning to wonder if she should try somewhere else when she spotted an unattended sandwich at one of the tables. Glancing around to make sure no one was approaching the table, she casually picked up the sandwich and walked away, hoping no one else would remember she hadn't been the one to purchase it. She managed to get out of sight of the restaurant and get the food into her bag before the real owner of the sandwich showed up, along with a friend of his.

Jack frowned down at the empty plate where he was sure he had left his sandwich when he had gone to get some ale from the bar inside (seeing as they had no rum, a grave business mistake in his opinion). Aragorn, not noticing Jack's dilemma, sat down with his own sandwich and glass of ale and began to eat. "Where's my sandwich?"

Aragorn looked up in surprise, having only taken a single bite before being interrupted. "What?"

Jack, seeing the sandwich in Aragorn's hand, glared at him. "You stole my sandwich!"

It was Aragorn's turn to scowl. "No, Jack, I did not take your sandwich. Why would I bother to?"

"Because you enjoy my suffering."

Aragorn replied with logic rather than a denial. "I hardly think losing a sandwich qualifies as suffering."

Jack narrowed his eyes at him. "I didn't lose it, you stole it!"

Aragorn muttered an oath under his breath. "I did not steal your sandwich."

"You bloody well did. Who else would take my sandwich? Surely none of these fine people." He indicated their company (a mother and her twelve-year old son, an off-duty guard, and a handful of elderly people) with a sweep of his arm. "Only you would be so low."

"This coming from a pirate."

"Yes, well, I couldn't have stolen my own sandwich, could I? That only leaves you."

"For the last time, Jack, I did not steal your sandwich. More likely you ate it and forgot during your little rum-episode with the waiter. You really have got to stop asking for rum here in Minas Tirith; you know they haven't got any," Aragorn added as an afterthought.

Jack frowned at him. "And why not? You're the bloody king. You should order them to have rum here."

"I told you before. No. I'm not going to waste my time going through all that paperwork for a drink – especially not one that disgusting." Belatedly, Aragorn realized his mistake – calling Jack's beloved rum _disgusting_ – and, seeing the dark look on Jack's face, sighed and settled in for the long and rather tedious lecture he knew he was going to have to endure. _Serves me right for talking to him in the first place,_ Aragorn mused as Jack raved on about rum and Gondor needing a better King who understood his people – a king like Jack, no doubt…

Aragorn sighed again. It was going to be a_ long_ day.


	4. Many Meetings

W00t, we've made it to Chapter 4!!! Not the best of the best, and it's a little rushed, but it means we get farther into the story. Believe it or not, the reunion is not the biggest part of this story... anyway, read, review, enjoy... and all that good stuff.

**Disclaimer**: You know how it is. I own nothing, Tolkien owns everything etc., etc.

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**Chapter Four: Many Meetings**

"How long have we been here?"

"Define 'here.' D'you mean Gondor or the cell?"

"Well, considering we've only been here about ten minutes…"

Robin rolled her eyes. "It's month now, I think… I kind of lost track." Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall of the small prison cell and closed her eyes. The harsh strips of sunlight falling from between the bars of the single window fell across her face, creating a startling contrast between the now nearly white color of her skin and the dark shadows over her eyes. The only trace of color she held was in her cheeks, which were pink from fever, and a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.

Glancing at her friend, Erindi saw for the first time just how badly the past month had treated her. Though they hadn't completely failed at pick-pocketing, they hadn't exactly gone from rags to riches either. The people of Gondor were careful, and it was rare indeed for either of them to acquire more than what would normally amount to a single meal each day. This, coupled with the fact that they had been sleeping wherever they could find room at night, had whittled them down to the shadows they now were. Erindi herself, though neither feverish nor dizzy, was no better off. She had developed a dry, hacking cough that was painful to bear – never a good sign in even the healthiest person.

Though Erindi refused to admit she was truly sick – aloud, at least – she knew they couldn't last in the White City much longer. Not only were the pickings slim, but she knew if they continued to steal there, eventually their luck would run out. It was best if they went somewhere new – somewhere she had hoped they would have a better chance in. Finding courage in this small hope, they had stolen into the stables earlier that morning, hoping to steal a couple of horses and get out of the city before anyone noticed. Unfortunately, someone had noticed – and, as it turned out, the horse that Erindi had chosen was not just any horse… but the _King's_ horse.

And that was how they'd ended up in jail. _Well, at least we've got a roof over our heads. They'll probably feed us, too,_ Erindi mused.

"How long do you think they'll keep us here?" Robin asked quietly.

"Depends on how much they find out about us… how much they find out we've stolen." Erindi drew her collar over her mouth then, trying to stifle the sound of her coughing.

Robin opened a bleary eye and looked her over. "You're getting worse," she observed, her voice edged with deep concern. "You need a doctor."

"Look who's talking," Erindi returned wryly. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth but was replaced quickly by another short burst of coughing. After a few moments, Robin slipped quietly into unconsciousness. Erindi followed suit an hour or so later, falling into a deep sleep which was hard to awaken from but had little worth in the way of actual peace and rest.

Erindi coughed, even in her sleep – dry, racking coughs that sounded like dead leaves scraping on stone. Robin grew paler yet during that night as her fever worsened. By the time the morning-shift guards came the next day, it had become clear that the two prisoners would not last very long if they were left in their cell.

"Pardon me, King Elessar."

Aragorn looked up quickly from his paperwork in the throne room, grateful for the distraction. "Yes, Beregor?"

The guard bowed his head respectfully, amazed that the King remembered his name. "M'lord, the two women we arrested yesterday – the thieves – they're terribly ill. We think it would be best to move them to the healing ward until they recover." The guard nervously shuffled his feet. Though Aragorn had a widespread reputation for being a just and kind-hearted king, Beregor was a new recruit, and he feared making his King angry with him.

Aragorn rose, his brow furrowed with unease, and motioned for the guard to follow. He began heading briskly towards the prison, and Beregor nearly tripped over himself as he struggled to keep up. When they reached their destination, Aragorn turned to Beregor and asked, "Which cell?"

"That one, m'lord." Beregor indicated a cell a few yards ahead of them to the right. Aragorn stepped up to the cell, stopped… and stared. His face drained of color as he gazed at the two people he had least expected to see, here or anywhere, ever again. His heart skipped a beat or two as he gazed at what had become of them.

"M'lord?" Beregor addressed him tentatively, concerned for his king's health. Instead of responding, Aragorn snatched the keys from the guard's belt and hastened to unlock the door, nearly dropping the keys in his urgency. Throwing the keys back to Beregond, he threw open the door and rushed inside to kneel beside Erindi.

Brushing her matted hair from her face, Aragorn's breath caught as he realized how sick she was. Had he found her only to lose her again? "Erindi," he whispered, gently cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. His vision blurring with tears, he closed his eyes and kissed her brow as all the feelings he'd hidden away for the past year began to resurface, mixing with the fear he now felt for her and for Robin. _No wonder they tried to steal the horses,_ he thought as he pulled back to gaze at her face again. _They had nothing to support themselves._ "Amin mela lle," he murmured in her ear, knowing she could not understand but hoping the message would reach her anyway. Her eyelids fluttered a little, but remained closed.

"M'lord?" Beregor said again, thoroughly confused as to what could possibly connect his king to these two thieves.

Aragorn's stormy gray eyes hardened as he accepted the responsibility of taking care of the two women before him, and his eyes flashed as he turned his face to the guard. "Take her to the healing ward," he ordered, indicating Robin. He himself bent and picked up Erindi, cradling her in his arms as if she were as fragile as glass.

A second guard appeared in the doorway – another member of the morning-shift. "Is there anything I can do, m'lord?"

"Fetch Captain Sparrow," Aragorn answered as he and Beregor carried the two invalids out of the prison.

Jack, at that particular moment in time, happened to be engaged in an especially serious activity – at least, _he_ took it very seriously. "Another round, mate?" he drawled, grinning across the table – and the numerous empty shot glasses – at Faramir, who had recently come to Minas Tirith with Eowyn to visit Aragorn.

Faramir smiled back lopsidedly, his eyes blurry and his speech badly slurred from ale. "I think, between us, we've drunk enough to last a year, my friend."

Jack raised an indignant eyebrow. "Speak for yourself," he replied, pouring himself another glass. Faramir laughed, and as he did so leaned too far back in his chair. Still laughing, he crashed to the tavern floor, and was out cold.

Jack smiled to himself. "Guess that means again. You know, mate, you really ought to stop betting against me before you run out of gold," he remarked to Faramir's unconscious body.

"Captain Sparrow." Jack frowned, leaning over to check that Faramir was still unconscious. A voice behind him cleared its throat, and Jack turned around to see the guard Aragorn had sent staring down at him. "Sir, the King sends for you. He wishes for you to come to the healing ward immediately."

Jack's scowl deepened. "A lot of nerve he's got, ordering _me_ around."

"Well, he is the King, sir."

Jack glared at the guard, who shrugged and began leading the way to the healing ward. Still sulking, Jack followed, wondering what could possibly be so important as to actually make Aragorn send for him, rather than the Ranger's usual tendency to try and send him away.


	5. The Vigil

Here it is at last, as promised - a new chapter of _To Another World_! Sorry for taking so long, mates - lotsa personal issues and all that. But now it's all settled, and all teh Robin has to worry about is who she's going to go see _At World's End_ with (coughErindineedstofindoutwhenshe'svisitingcough)! (And no, most of you don't need to get that cough-disguised message, just Erindi.) For once, this chapter is actually my normal length - about four pages, nearing five. Emotionally packed, it was a little bit hard to write - especially after my extended absence. But now I'm back on track (I think) and you can expect the next chapter (if all goes well) sometime next weekend! (OMFG _AWE_ will be out then!!! Squee!!!)

(**A/N**: I've been notified of a few plot-holes here and there - thanks again to jennfire for pointing those out to me - and I can honestly say I've taken care of at least one of them in this chapter. As for the others, I promise to try and fix the others sometime soon, whether in a new chapter or by going back and fixing old ones. So keep your eyes open for author's notes in the future addressing this issue, savvy?)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, blah blah blah. Let's get on with this, shall we?

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**Chapter Five: The Vigil**

Jack stared silently down at Robin's unconscious form. She seemed so fragile, almost as pale as the white sheets she lay on. This was not how he remembered her. This was not how she should be.

"This is why I asked for you," Aragorn stated quietly, standing next to Jack and feeling helpless – a feeling he hated. He'd done everything he could for Erindi and Robin for now, but he couldn't help feeling it wasn't enough. He could only pray that it was.

Jack didn't move, unable to respond and knowing he didn't need to. Aragorn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment, then left them alone together as he sought out Erindi's room. Aside from needing to see her again, he knew Jack would want some time alone, just as Aragorn had when he first saw Erindi in the cell.

As for Jack, he was grateful for his friend's understanding. He did need this time alone to come to terms with what was happening. When he first caught sight of Robin, he'd gone from pure shock to joy at seeing her to horror at what was happening to her, and finally to despair at what might still happen to her. He'd thought he'd lost her forever, a year ago, and now that she had come back to him against all odds, it seemed as if he might lose her again – and this time it really would be forever. Though he had seen worse cases than this, and had himself survived sicknesses greater than either Robin's or Erindi's, it didn't stop him from worrying. He had wanted Robin back again – but not at this cost.

Tentatively, he reached out and brushed her cheek just barely with his fingertips. Even in this slight touch, he could feel the heat of her raging fever. His eyes stung, and he sank into the chair a nurse had placed beside the bed, reaching out to take Robin's hand as he did so. She stirred a little then, and for a brief instant it seemed as if she would wake. But the fever pulled her back down into darkness again, and she barely managed to flutter her eyelids before going still once more.

Taking a deep breath and refusing to let the tears in his eyes fall, Jack made himself as comfortable as he could in the stiff wooden chair and prepared himself for a very long wait. He would stay in this chair until she woke… or until he was certain she never would again.

Aragorn, too, would have kept vigil over Erindi's sleeping form if he could have, but his duties as King drew him away before long, back to the throne room that he was beginning to see as a jail. Despite the enormity of the room's high-vaulted, cathedral-like ceiling and the vast tiled floor-space, it seemed to grow smaller to him every time he wasted a day away signing papers. This had happened before more than once, and he'd begun to recognize the feeling almost the instant it began to manifest itself. It meant it was time for him to go again; he had a Ranger's restless heart, and now and again he needed to wander the wilderness he'd grown to know so well, just to escape the feeling of being trapped when he stayed in one place too long. During his absences (which sometimes would last months at a time), Faramir, his trusted steward and friend, took over for him, and more often than not Aragorn missed nothing while he was away, though he certainly had much more paperwork to sift through once he returned.

But this time, there was no question of his leaving. He could not, not until Erindi was well. His heart felt heavy in his breast as he sat down to sign another hundred papers he would force himself to read – whether or not they were of any real importance – because he wished to be a good King for his people. By the end of the day, he was weary from the load of his royal responsibilities – and his own personal concerns – but he did not go to his room to rest. Instead, he headed straight back to the healing ward to check on his beloved.

Though he had hoped for news of either Erindi or Robin waking up, he had not expected it, and thus was not surprised to find his hopes unfounded. He supposed it would be safe to leave them for the night – he doubted they would wake up before morning – he, like Jack, did not even consider doing so. Instead, he too pulled a chair up next to Erindi's bed and settled in for a long and very uncomfortable night, determined to try his hardest to be there the moment she woke up. He refused to consider any other possibility.

The next day dawned in a haze of rain and shadow, and when Aragorn rose to check on his two newest patients, he was much disheartened to find them in much the same condition as the day before. They had not gotten any better – though, he reasoned with himself, at least they didn't get any worse. After doing what he could for Erindi, he went to Robin's room to see to her as well as Jack, whom, he suspected, had passed the night as sleeplessly as he had. When he entered the room and saw the shadows in his friend's eyes, he knew he had been right. He felt those eyes following him as he tended to Robin as best as he could.

"Have they gotten any better?" Jack questioned once Aragorn was finished.

Aragorn thought to lie to him in order to comfort him but dismissed the idea quickly; he knew Jack would be able to see the truth in his face. Solemnly, he shook his head. "They haven't gotten worse, but they aren't any closer to getting well, either."

Jack nodded resignedly and shifted his gaze back to Robin. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Again Aragorn shook his head no. "Just don't forget to take care of yourself," he admonished gently. "It won't do her any good to wake up if you've starved yourself to death waiting for her."

"What if she found someone else?" Aragorn had turned to leave, but Jack's sudden words stopped him dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned back to face Jack, and was stricken by the look of open hopelessness on his face. Jack, though not quite as stoic as Aragorn, was not usually one for a sharing of feelings, no matter who he was with. Yet this time Aragorn could see his emotions as clearly as if he'd written them on the wall.

"She loved you, Jack," he said simply. "I think she loves you still. She would not have come here if it were otherwise."

Jack glanced up at him, ready to argue, but was silenced by the honesty he saw in his friend's eyes. Aragorn believed in what he said, and he was asking Jack to do the same. Quietly, Jack nodded, and once more shifted his gaze back to Robin. When he saw there was no more to say, Aragorn turned once more and left, heading first to Erindi's room and then back to the throne room for another long day of running a kingdom.

Three more days and nights passed just the same as these. Each night, Jack and Aragorn would pass the night with little or no sleep, and each day, they would tend to the women and pray for change – and find none. By the fourth morning, Jack and Aragorn, though healthy still, were all but asleep on their feet from lack of rest. Dark circles caused by more than smudged kohl ringed Jack's eyes, and Aragorn's bloodshot vision was blurred so that he almost didn't see the change in Erindi's face when he rose to see to her.

"Aragorn?"

Aragorn jerked in response to the hoarse whispering of his name. Jerked into wakefulness by his surprise, his gaze darted up to Erindi's face, his breath catching in his throat as he saw her hazel-brown eyes watching him from under half-closed lids. "Erindi," he breathed, and was beside the head of her bed in an instant, cupping her face in his hands as delicately as if she were a butterfly.

She smiled up at him drowsily, unsure of whether or not she was still dreaming. "I've missed you."

Aragorn could have cried from joy and relief in that moment, for he heard it in her strong voice and saw it in the clearness of her eyes that she would be all right. It took all his willpower to restrain himself to kissing her forehead gently, rather than kiss her hard and full on the lips as he wished to. "I missed you too," he replied with a smile, his voice as unsteady as his heart. "How are you feeling?"

She coughed a little, but it was a normal clearing of the throat now, no longer the dry, hacking cough that had haunted him during his vigil beside her bed. "Much better. I can breathe again." Blinking dazedly, she looked around. "Where am I?"

"You're in the healing ward. You've been asleep for four days. You were very sick, Erindi." He offered her a small, wry smile. "You should learn to take better care of yourself."

Erindi cocked an eyebrow at him and lifted her chin in false defense. "I was doing just fine without you." Her features softened then as she began to realize this was no dream, and that she had woken at last. "You're really here, aren't you?"

Aragorn chuckled quietly. "Yes, I am. I've been here the whole time you were asleep. I brought you here."

"You saved my life," she whispered, seeing how tired he was from this feat by the look in his eyes. Aragorn shrugged, always the modest hero. She looked up at him, and the look in her eyes gave him the courage to do what he'd been wishing he could do since he'd danced with her on Halloween, a year ago and a world away. Leaning over her, he bent down and kissed her softly, silently promising to make up for all the time they'd lost once she was well again. Erindi, her heart skipping a beat in her chest, was surprised at first, and almost struggled. But Aragorn's quiet insistence convinced her it was safe to do otherwise, and she kissed him back, returning his silent promise full-heartedly.

Meanwhile, Jack found himself drifting somewhere between consciousness and the dream-world. Something soft brushed his cheek, and a voice he thought he knew was whispering his name. "Jack… Jack… wake up…" With a great effort of will, he forced his eyes open, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw a pair of worried emerald eyes staring into his own.

"Robin?!" he exclaimed, sitting up and nearly bumping his forehead against hers in the process. It didn't seem possible, after nearly a hundred long hours of restless waiting, that she could be awake. Yet the cool hands on his cheeks felt real, and her eyes begged him to believe in her. Hesitantly, he placed his hands over hers, drawing them away from his face to hold them between his palms. Still unable to believe in this unexpected turn of events, he took a moment to look over her, and for the first time noticed how drenched her hair and nightclothes were. Her fever had broken during the night, he realized, and the rosy color of her cheeks was signaling a return to health rather than a prolonged illness.

"Jack, you look as if you've seen a ghost," she murmured quietly, the corners of her mouth quirking up in wry humor. She knew how close she'd been to death, and she could see from the circles around his eyes that he'd kept watch the entire time she was sick – however long that was – and she loved him the more for it.

"Perhaps I have. When did you...?"

"Only a few minutes ago. Did you know you snore?" She smiled at him, wondering at her ability to keep herself from throwing herself into his arms and kissing him as she would've liked to. The only things that kept her in check, she supposed, were her weakened state… and the possibility she knew existed that he had found someone else in the past year. She wouldn't have blamed him – a year was a long time, especially for someone like Jack. But that didn't mean she'd stopped hoping he still wanted her.

Jack raised an indignant eyebrow at her. "I do not," he replied, pretending to be miffed, for he was too happy to feel anything else. Unable to fake annoyance for too long, he relented and smiled at her, gripping her hands tightly to keep his joy in check. He would not kiss her until he knew it was right for him to do so. "Robin…" He wasn't sure how to phrase the question, now that it was possible to get an answer.

Robin tilted her head at him in an innocent gesture of interest. "What is it?" When Jack didn't reply, she sighed. Suddenly, she remembered something, and reaching into her bag (which she'd discovered lying on her bedside table), she dug through it and pulled out Jack's compass. Jack's eyes widened with bewilderment as she held it out to him. "Eris gave it to me," she explained as he stared at it wonderingly, attaching it to his belt only once he was sure it really was his. "She had Aragorn's dagger, too – Erindi still has it with her." She didn't ask how Erindi was; somehow, she just knew she was all right. She could not comprehend the idea that things could have turned out otherwise. "Eris said they were gifts."

"From her, not from us. We didn't know where they were." Jack chose not to mention he'd accused Aragorn of taking the compass.

Robin's looked turned thoughtful then as she remembered the long weeks of traveling, following nothing but intuition and the compass needle. "Jack… what does that compass point to, if not north? You never told me, but I'd like to know."

Jack frowned at her questioningly, wanting to know why she asked. "It points to what you want most in this world."

Robin's eyes widened as she realized what his words truly meant for her. The whole time she had been following the compass, it had been pointing here, to Minas Tirith… to him. She leaned closer to him, her green eyes intense. She was not brave enough to tell him about where the compass had pointed for her yet, but she knew she would live to regret it if she did not tell him something of what she felt. "I still want you," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.

For a moment, he only looked at her, overcome with emotion. Then, almost suddenly, Jack found himself kissing her passionately, forgetting for the moment that she was still weakened from her illness. Still, she kissed him back just as strongly, her feelings for him lending her strength she otherwise would not have had. For the first time in a year, all four friends were truly happy, truly at peace with the world and themselves, for they had everything they wanted.

Everything, that is, except the _Black Pearl_.


	6. Free at Last

Can it be? Yes, a new chapter! I know I've been neglectful of this one for like, a month, and I know I rarely keep my promises of updating by a certain point... but better late than never, aye? I intend to finish this fanfic hopefully before the _At World's End_ DVD comes out... and you'd better not be laughing at that, you darkly sarcastic readers, you (that means YOU, Erindi)! Have a little faith, eh? (Though it wouldn't hurt to cross your fingers for me, either... you're not the only ones with doubts I'll finish this by the time I want to.)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except the randomness (and chaos - oh, Eris would be so proud) of a PotC-LotR crossover idea. And my misgivings concerning what to do next. (I have an idea, but I'm still working with it, so bear with me!)

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**Chapter Six: Free at Last**

The next few days were torture for Robin and Erindi. Though at last they had Jack and Aragorn back, they could do little more than talk for a while before slipping back into recuperative sleep; and, though they were healing swiftly, Aragorn was a "tyrant" (as Erindi described him at one point) in the healing ward, and he made absolutely sure neither of the women left their beds more than absolutely necessary, reminding them constantly that the more cooperative they were, the sooner they would heal and the sooner he would let them out of the ward again. Despite the light-hearted arguments that surfaced again and again on the subject, he refused to yield, and for once Jack was actually backing him up.

Finally, on the fifth day, Robin awoke to find Jack beaming at her, looking as happy as a ten-year-old who had just been handed a puppy for his birthday. She smiled back uncertainly, wondering what had happened. "Jack?"

"You're free to go," said Aragorn's voice outside the door, just as Jack was opening his mouth to speak. Robin blinked in surprise, while Jack's jaw nearly hit the floor in his shock.

"I wanted to tell her," he complained, turning to frown at the Ranger leaning on the door.

"You still can," Aragorn replied easily, working to keep a satisfied grin from his lips. Now that Jack was no longer going to back him up, seeing as there was nothing to back him up on anymore, he figured he'd get a head start in their constant bickering.

Robin rolled her eyes; despite everything both of the men had gone through, they still managed to remind her of that ten-year-old-boy with the puppy. "You two sound like a married couple when you start arguing like that," she told them dryly.

Both Aragorn and Jack's faces twisted into grimaces of disgust. "Never, ever say that again," Jack pleaded as Aragorn left his station in the doorway to find Erindi.

Robin laughed cheerily, ignoring the faint bruise she'd left on his ego. "You'll live." She kissed him for a moment. "Just be grateful he's finally letting me out of here." She grinned dreamily. "I get to have a real bed, and a real room of my own. Finally!"

Jack raised an eyebrow and moved closer to her. "You can have mine, if you like. It's very comfortable."

Robin laughed even as she blushed. "Nice try, Jack, but no dice. I'm getting my own room… but first, I think I'd like to go shopping." She paused, deep in thought, and completely missed the half-pleading, half-inviting look Jack was giving her. "Hmmm. I'll bet Erindi needs some clothes too. Maybe I should drag her along."

Jack sighed, knowing that, for the moment, she was too distracted with the prospect of shopping in Middle-Earth to pay attention to his charming ways. Later, he told himself. It was, after all, still only morning. There was always time to convince her later. "I suppose you'll be needing money, then," he said, thinking of Aragorn, as she shoved back the covers and stood.

Robin paused again, looking down disapprovingly at the plain white linen slip she'd been made to wear while in the ward. "Yes, and something more decent than this to wear once we get outside. Where's our stuff?"

Jack dutifully handed Robin her bag, which had been sitting in the corner of the room, and watched as a smile spread across her face. "What?" he asked, wondering what could have been so surprising about a bag she'd packed herself.

"Our clothes have been washed," she said simply, pulling out a mercifully mud-free tank-top and pair of jeans. "That was nice of them."

"Oh, yes, I asked them to," Jack said, though in truth it was Aragorn who had thought of it first. But Jack would've thought of it eventually, if Aragorn hadn't beat him to it, and he figured it was good enough to make his claim… _somewhat_ true.

Robin grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Jack. Now leave."

He frowned. "What?"

Robin chuckled at the sudden change in his expression. "I need to change," she explained. "Go outside for a minute. I'll be out in a sec."

"Ah." Well, that explained the abrupt request, but he didn't see why he had to comply (well, actually he did, but he chose to ignore that line of reasoning). So he stayed put, and Robin very nearly forgot he was standing there.

Catching herself just at the last second, she sent him a dark look which contrasted deeply with the smile she was desperately trying to keep from showing. "Jack, _now_."

"But…"

"_Jack_."

"But…"

"Jack!"

"All right!" Fluttering his hands in a show of indignity, he strolled at his own pace to the door. "I don't see what the problem is," he muttered as he stepped out and closed the door behind him. Shaking her head, Robin turned away and began changing, finally allowing the smile she'd just barely kept hidden to spread across her mouth. It was going to be a beautiful day, she could tell.

At that moment, Erindi couldn't have agreed with her more. "I'm… free?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic. It's only been a few days."

"Five," she reminded him sharply, then pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry, I just… can't believe you're finally letting me go."

Aragorn sighed. "And you're tempting me to take it all back."

"Too late, you already said I could go!" Before he could protest, she shoved herself out of bed, elated at the prospect of finally getting out of the maddeningly white healing ward. Whether she was in Middle-Earth or not, a hospital was still a hospital, and the less time she had to spend in one, the better. "Where are my clothes?" She glared at Aragorn as he first held out her bag… then held it over his head, reminding her of how tall he was, and how relatively "un-tall" she was.

"Ask politely," he warned her as she took a step towards him.

Erindi's glower darkened, though she couldn't keep the corners of her lips from turning up just a little. "Give me my bag, you dork."

Aragorn chuckled. "I like it when you're angry," he told her. Of course, they both knew she wasn't truly angry, but he knew the comment would irritate her further.

The way her eyebrow arched indignantly told him his assumption was correct. "I thought you were supposed to care about my happiness."

He shrugged. "I suppose it's important, but so is mine." Laughing at the way she was looking at him, he finally relented and tossed her the bag. "I had your clothes washed. I thought you might appreciate having something more to wear than that." He indicated the hospital gown.

Then she did smile at last, for she was grateful. It was the little things like that that made her care for him the way she did. "Thank you."

Aragorn paused, listening with his uncanny hearing abilities to what Robin was saying to Jack in the room next-door. "It seems that Robin is going to force you to go out with her on a shopping spree," he remarked as Erindi pulled out some jeans and a shirt to change into.

Erindi groaned, even though inwardly she liked the idea. "Don't make me go with just the two of them," she pleaded. "They'll be flirting the whole time."

Aragorn smiled. "Well, I suppose the paperwork can wait until later," he said dryly, both of them knowing how much he detested that side of his duties. He knew it was just as important as anything else, but somehow sitting at a desk signing his name over and over didn't feel very productive or kingly.

Erindi grinned back at him. "Thank you," she said, and kissed him. She'd meant it to be quick, but Aragorn unexpectedly deepened the kiss, leaving her dizzied but happy when he pulled back. "I'll be outside," he murmured, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind him. Trying not to sigh, Erindi turned from the door and reached for her clothes.

Robin smiled sunnily at Erindi when the two of them emerged from their rooms at the same time. "Wonderful to be free, isn't it?" she asked dreamily, casting a sly glance in Aragorn's direction.

"Glorious," Erindi replied dramatically.

"I kept you in bed for your own good," Aragorn all but growled at them. "If I hadn't, you both would still be there."

"Yes, but we're not, so now we can make fun of you," Robin retorted happily. "But, Aragorn-teasing aside, we've got important work to do today."

"Shopping?" Erindi asked.

Robin blinked. "How did you know?" Erindi and Aragorn shared an amused glance. Shaking her head, Robin continued. "Yes, shopping. And since you're coming along," she indicated Aragorn, "you might as well give us the grand tour while you're at it… your majesty."

Aragorn grimaced at the title, while Erindi all but jumped. She'd pretty much forgotten he was a king up until then; he certainly hadn't ever acted very regal, except when issuing orders to the nurses in the ward. "You'll be needing some money from me as well, I assume," he said, thinking of the useless paper money they had in the other world.

Erindi frowned, but Robin spoke before she could refuse the money, knowing Erindi would see it as charity and, at the same time, knowing they couldn't afford to say no. Besides, she reasoned, Aragorn had more than enough to spare. "Why yes, your lordship, we will be requiring your financial assistance." She grinned. "I hope being king means you're fairly rich."

"Rich enough to have at least some money left over when you're done," he replied evenly.

"We'll see about that," Robin returned, her eyes glinting with the prospect of what was, in her mind, going to be the greatest shopping trip ever.

She was right. Aragorn had meant it when he said he had plenty of money; the purchases that Erindi and Robin made that day didn't even put a dent in the royal treasury, and Robin at least had certainly taken advantage of his help. Erindi had taken a bit of convincing before she bought anything she really wanted; though she and Aragorn were "an item" now (as Robin put it), she didn't like to think of how much their little shopping spree was costing him. But finally she'd relented – he was, after all, a king, and he'd reminded her constantly he could more than afford it – and soon Aragorn and Jack's arms were both filled with the women's purchases. Only when they could carry no more did Robin finally announce that their trip was a success.

"Not only have we seen it all," she announced cheerily, "we've bought it all!"

The two men glanced balefully down at their heavy loads. "You certainly have," Aragorn replied wryly.

"Are you sure it's no trouble?" Erindi asked him gently.

Aragorn sighed, wishing he had a hand free to ruffle her hair. "If you ask me that one more time, I'm going to have to drop all of this on you." He paused, glancing up at the darkening sky. It was nearing nightfall. "I suppose you'll be needing rooms as well."

"Oh, Robin doesn't need a room," Jack interjected as they began heading towards the main castle.

"Yes, Robin does," Robin shot back, amused but firm in her decision. At least, she liked to pretend she was. "Robin is going to have her own room, and Jack is just going to have to accept that."

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. "What's the matter, love? Don't you trust me?"

Robin glanced at him, sensing the underlying seriousness of the question despite the light-hearted delivery. "Of course I do. But good things come to those who wait."

"I've waited a year," Jack protested.

"Patience is a virtue," Robin replied.

"Do remember I am still human," he returned.

"And very much a man," Robin added. She faked frustration, though really she was enjoying playing the 'all men are the same' card, especially since she didn't believe in it at all. "I mean, really. Don't you think of anything else?"

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Jack asked, pretending innocence. "I was simply asking you to stay with me; I suggested nothing further than that."

Robin nearly tripped over her own feet then, and Jack silently cheered at the small victory. "I… er…" It annoyed her not to have a comeback; it was downright infuriating to know that the reason for that was that he was completely right. He hadn't said a word about anything other than simply sharing his room. "Yes, but… I know you, Jack."

"You could get to know me even better." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Would you two cut it out?!" Erindi exclaimed, exasperated. "Did you forget I can still hear you?" They were inside the castle now, but Robin and Jack's exchange was far too annoying to let her focus on the beautiful décor.

"No," Robin replied, though in truth she had forgotten. "I just figured you'd be able to ignore us."

Erindi sighed, and was grateful when Aragorn, who had momentarily left them, returned with an older man bearing two brass keys. At Aragorn's indication with a tilt of his head, the man handed one key to Erindi and one to Robin, who cast a triumphant glance at Jack. Dismissing the key-bearer, Aragorn smiled ruefully at Erindi. "I apologize for leaving you with them so long," he said, though he'd only been gone a few moments.

"You should be sorry. Come on, show us our rooms so I can get away from them." The annoyed tic in the corner of Erindi's eye suggested she was only half-joking.

Chuckling, Aragorn led the way. "You might not appreciate it, then, that your rooms are right next to each other... And just down the hall from our rooms," he added thoughtfully, recalling the fact only just then.

"Great," Erindi muttered.

When at last they reached their rooms, Erindi and Robin gasped with delight and awe. The rooms were good enough for royalty; it was hard to imagine that even Aragorn's could top this. Though of course the general color scheme was, well, _white_, here it came off more as an angelic sort of thing and had no suggestion of the antiseptic quality the white of the healing ward had. Everything was simply beautiful – the canopied, silk-covered beds, the elegantly carved bedside tables, the glimmering chandeliers; even the shiny, polished floorboards beneath their feet seemed regal and grand. It was like stepping straight into a fairytale, and the fact that these rooms were theirs only made it that much harder to believe. "These are ours?" Erindi asked almost breathlessly.

"For as long as you need them. They can be permanent, if you like, depending on what happens," Aragorn told her, placing a hand lightly on her waist.

She smiled up at him. "Thank you. For everything."

He kissed her for a moment, gently. "Would you like me to help you put all of this away?" he asked, gratefully dumping her purchases on the floor at the end of the bed.

"Tomorrow." For now, she wanted to sleep. It had been a long day. Understanding, Aragorn kissed her once more before leaving, deciding that his paperwork, too, could wait until the next day.

Jack, on the other hand, would not be gotten rid of so easily. Though tired, Robin had insisted on putting all of her stuff away before sleep, having a strange streak of a clean-freak in her nature, and Jack had stayed to help her. Even as they were putting her clothes away, they argued. "I just don't see the point of you having your own room. Mine is just as good as this one. Better, even."

"I doubt there's anything better than this," she said on a sigh. "Anyway, I don't see why you can't just be a little patient, for my sake. You may be used to getting what you want-"

Jack huffed indignantly.

"-when it comes to women, anyway, but you're going to have to get used to the idea of having a woman who's not going to sleep with you just because you asked. And you can't bribe me, either," she added admonishingly.

Jack frowned. "I would never sink to such a low. Besides, I wouldn't need to pay you."

Robin's cheeks flushed, though from embarrassment or irritation, she didn't know. "Jack, if you don't shut up, I'm going to have to hit you."

Jack shrugged nonchalantly as he put away the last of her purchases, relieved that the job was done. He turned to face her, and was surprised to find her looking up at him with an almost inviting look. He smiled wickedly at her. "Have it your way, love, but we both know you want me. It's just a matter of how long you can hold out."

Robin's lips pressed into a thin line, giving the impression of anger, though in fact she was trying to smother her own smile. "If you say so, Jack. Now say goodnight, because if you're not gone in two more seconds I'm going to shove you out."

He kissed her, slowly, deeply, nearly literally sweeping her off her feet before he pulled back. "G'night, love," he whispered in her ear, and left, closing the door softly behind him.

For a moment, she stared at the closed door, wondering if he had been right all along. Shaking her head, she told herself not to think about it yet, and collapsed happily onto her bed, asleep almost before hitting the pillow. She dreamed of castles, of princesses and dragons and roses and magic… and Jack.


	7. Grave Tidings

OmfG. Can it be - two chapters, in only one day? XD Of course, mates, this does not come without a price - not only is the title of the chapter particularly ominous and quite accurate, but it's also a VERY short chapter. But bear with me - more will come; I'm on a roll! I just liked the ending of this chapter too much to lengthen it past that point. So read, enjoy, and be soothed in the knowledge that tomorrow there will be even more to read and enjoy. Savvy?

**Disclaimer**: Tolkien and the Mouse own all. I am but a speck of dust in comparison. o.O

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**Chapter Seven: Grave Tidings**

Aragorn ran a hand through his unkempt hair as he stared down at the seemingly endless stack of paperwork sitting before him on the table in the throne room. He'd been up since dawn that morning, reading and making a decision on each and every paper, as a responsible king should, but nearly four hours later the enormity of the task hadn't yet seemed to diminish. It was his own fault, he supposed, for leaving as he did now and then, and he'd been taught to be a patient man, but he hardly wanted to spend his entire day thus – especially now that he had the option of spending it otherwise with Erindi.

He smiled a little at the thought. Nearly a week after he'd discovered her and Robin in prison, he still barely believed his own eyes. He had given up hope long ago of ever seeing her again, yet here she was, against all odds, delivered straight into his arms as if by fate; he supposed he had Eris to thank for that. Though he knew it was a bit foolish, he hadn't been able to keep himself from checking on her earlier that morning while she was still sleeping, just to make sure she was still there.

Biting back a wistful sigh, he shook his head to clear his mind and forced himself to return to the task at hand. The sooner he finished this, he reminded himself, the sooner he could be with Erindi, without the weight of his responsibilities hanging over his head. But just as he'd put his quill to the parchment to sign his name for what seemed like (and may truly have been) the hundredth time, a commotion outside the main entrance had him glancing up sharply just as the huge double-doors were being shoved open. He stood abruptly at the sight of the man in the doorway, who, barely able to stand on his own two feet, was bloodied and bruised, and breathing heavily.

The young man was none other than Bergil, barely twenty, and son of his former guard Beregond, who had been transferred to Faramir's guard in Ithilien. Though young, he had proved both valiant and skilled, and Aragorn had appointed him captain of a small scouting party he'd sent a week earlier to the river Anduin, to check for any signs of orcs or other enemies. Apparently, he had found some.

"Bergil, what happened?" the King demanded as he strode across the room to meet him, barely catching the boy before he lost his footing. Gently, he guided Bergil to a chair, sending a guard with a wave of his hand to fetch some medical supplies to treat the boy's wounds. "Are you badly hurt?"

"I'll be all right," Bergil responded, with some difficulty.

"What happened?"

Bergil flushed, embarrassed of his perceived failure as captain even in spite of his injuries. "I am sorry, m'lord," he said softly. "I am the only one to return." He paused, breathing heavily.

Aragorn kept his sharp grey eyes back on Bergil, his gaze unwavering as he waited for the story behind the losses his guard had suffered. "Was it orcs?"

"Nay. We found no orcs, nor other creatures of that sort along the way. We met no resistance at all until we reached the mouth of the river." He coughed, and though it was clearly painful for the boy, Aragorn was relieved to see that it was dry, and he was not coughing up blood. He would be all right, though he would need much rest before returning to his duties. "It was corsairs."

"Somebody mention pirates?" said a voice from the hall to the right, and Aragorn and Bergil both looked up to see Jack sauntering into the throne room. A flicker of surprise and concern came and went in his eyes when he caught sight of Bergil, but the fact that Aragorn was clearly not in a rush to get the boy to the healing ward told him he need not worry. Still, he could tell the topic of piracy was not going to be a good point in this conversation, and the enigmatic smile that had been on his lips began to fade. "What's happened now?"

"There are corsairs on the river," Aragorn informed him, and turned back to Bergil. "Were there many of them?"

Bergil nodded emphatically. "A score of ships, at the least." Aragorn frowned; it was not like the corsairs to gather in such large numbers. Jack's eyes grew dark with memories as he recalled the last time he had witnessed a pirate gathering. Then, it had been at least under a code of honor; here, however, he knew the pirates had no code, and no honor. Here, the gathering was not good news for anyone, whatever the reason behind it. "We believe more were on the way."

Aragorn's eyes clouded with thought and apprehension. "What happened to your guard? Why did you fight?"

"It wasn't our choice," the young guard explained. "We were trying to discover the meaning behind it, why they were gathering instead of attacking. They must be planning something, though why they have suddenly decided to do so, I do not know. We were caught while eavesdropping on one of their conversations – many of the captains seemed to be camping on the beach alongside the river, in order to converse more easily with each other, I suppose – and… there was a fight. Many of my men died; some of them fled. I made sure I was the last before I left," he added quickly, an edge of desperation coming into his voice as he tried to explain to them, and to himself, why he was still alive when most of his men where not.

Aragorn, sensing this, placed a consoling hand on the young man's good shoulder. "You did what you could, I'm sure. You are not to be blamed for the loss of your men, nor should you condemn yourself for fleeing rather than die in battle. It is good that you came; otherwise, no one would be here to warn us. I thank you for that, Bergil."

The boy nodded, blinking back tears stubbornly. "Thank you, m'lord." He paused as Aragorn stood and motioned for a nearby guard to lead the boy to the healing ward to be looked after. "M'lord, wait… there's something else." Aragorn looked at him sharply, and Jack stepped closer to see what the boy would say. "When we were eavesdropping, we did hear a bit of the captains' talk before we were caught. They spoke of a ship, an extraordinary vessel… they said it was the fastest they'd ever seen, and that it would serve them well as the flagship. One of my men saw it, before we were attacked; it's not hard to miss. It's the largest of the ships, and it's built differently, with square sails rather than triangular ones. And it's black, all of it… even the sails. We wouldn't have seen it at all, had it been nighttime."

At this, Aragorn's and Jack's gazes snapped together in a shocked moment of understanding. "They've got the _Pearl_," Jack whispered, horrified at the thought of his beautiful ship in the hands of the corsairs of Umbar.

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**EDIT**: It's small, but slightly important to those of you who know the geography of Middle-Earth fairly well. The corsairs are not at just any place on the river; they are at the mouth of the Anduin, out of sight of Minas Tirith. If you're just reading this, you won't know the difference, but originally I didn't specify where the corsairs were. So... now you know. Just making a point.


	8. The Plan

Oooh, I did it - two straight days of updating! And, as promised, this chapter is more of the normal length... no wimpy two-pagers here, folks! XD

**A/N:** Yeah, there's a bit of Middle-Earth madness in this chapter when it comes to the history of it all... that's what comes of spending nearly my entire day researching (and/or reviewing) what I needed to know to write the rest of this fanfic well. So forgive me, those of you who are not major LotR history obsessors... and fear not! Jack's presence in the story ensures quick and easy-to-understand explanations of what you truly need to know, thanks to his own lack of knowledge when it comes to the history of Tolkien's world. So read on, mates... and expect much of interest to happen from this point forward. ;)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Not even that dark shadowy place over there. o.O

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**Chapter Eight: The Plan**

As Bergil was led away to have his wounds taken care of in the healing ward, Aragorn paced the length of the throne room, the sound of his boots tapping against the polished floor echoing throughout the cavernous space. Jack followed him with his eyes, silently asking the question they both needed answered: _why?_ Why were the corsairs gathering? The only time in the history of Middle-Earth they had ever done so in large numbers since the Kin-strife (a disastrous civil war in Gondor that had occurred many years ago) was during the War of the Ring. Fifty great ships of Umbar had raided the port city of Pelargir, but they were captured by Aragorn and the Army of the Dead, and were sailed to Minas Tirith to relieve the siege of the city. The ships of that battle had long since been either destroyed or refurnished and made part of Gondor's fleet, and most of Gondor had forgotten about the pirates since then, assuming that the capture of the vessels meant the pirates would never be foolish enough return. But though the corsairs suffered devastating losses in both lives and vessels, they had not been completely wiped out, and since the War had mingled and merged with what was left of the Haradrim – more enemies of Gondor who lived southeast of the land. Between their combined forces, they had not only increased their numbers but their number of ships as well – it seemed they'd had enough time to rebuild their fleet. Though it could not possibly be as large as it was before the War, it posed a threat to Minas Tirith nonetheless, and had to be dealt with accordingly.

"The corsairs used to be Numenoreans," Aragorn told Jack, finally catching the pirate's puzzled stare out of the corner of his eye. "After the Downfall, they took to pillaging and piracy along the coasts of Gondor, and, during the Kin-strife, fled to Umbar. They have been sworn enemies of Gondor ever since."

Jack gazed at him bemusedly. "Now, you know I was never one for a complicated history lesson."

Aragorn sighed, pausing in his steps to look squarely at his friend. "Basically, the corsairs used to be part of Gondor, but they fell into dark ways and left, migrating to Umbar, a land which is far south of here. The only reason they gathered under Sauron in the first place – other than for fear of him – was most likely that they had been promised the rule of their homeland, Gondor. So the only reason they would be gathering now would be for the same ends – an attack on Gondor, in order to regain it for themselves."

He frowned, and began to pace again. "What bothers me most about this is that they have never done this before, save for when Sauron ordered them to. They are not known for being clever, but neither are they completely foolish. They must have reason to believe they can win this battle, even without the Dark Lord's protection." Jack raised an eyebrow at him. "More of a reason than a fast ship," he added, catching the meaning in Jack's eyes. "The _Pearl_ is a wonderful ship, Jack, but it alone would not guarantee their victory. There must be something else."

"Then I suggest we find out what it is," Jack replied simply.

Aragorn stopped mid-pace, his mouth open to offer a tart response. But before the words left his mouth, he realized the true significance of what the pirate was suggesting. "You're saying we should have a look for ourselves."

"Well," Jack began, his eyes narrowing with cool calculation as he spoke, "they say that if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself. You need information, and I need a way to regain my ship. The only answers we might find to each of these problems are to be found among the corsairs, and the only way to find the corsairs is to seek them out at the mouth of the Anduin. Seeing as the last little scouting party you sent down there had the bejeesus beat out of 'em, it seems that the only way to get exactly what we want is to scout for ourselves. Savvy?"

Aragorn tilted his head, considering Jack's plan. He had a point, and it would be a lie if Aragorn had said he didn't _want_ to have a look for himself. Sighing, he decided to trust Jack, and hope for the best. "Robin and Erindi aren't going to like this at all," he murmured, dreading giving them the news.

Jack's trademark grin, which had appeared simultaneously with his favorite phrase, began to fade. "Is it absolutely necessary to tell them?"

Aragorn gave him a sidelong glance. "Jack, they're going to notice if we're gone for a week, and it will take that long at least."

"We could tell them we're going on a hunting trip together, for a little male bonding," Jack persisted.

"It would be a lie."

"Not necessarily. We will be hunting, together… just not for the game they'll think we're after." He paused, considering. "Really, the only lie we'll be telling will be the male bonding bit, as I do not intend now, or ever, to do anything of the sort with _you._"

"Nor I with you," Aragorn replied dryly. "But even if it is not techically lying, it will still be conscious deception. Tell Robin what you will, but I am telling Erindi the truth."

"Your funeral, mate," Jack replied easily.

Shaking his head, Aragorn turned on his heel and began heading down the hall to wake Erindi. "We leave tomorrow morning," he called over his shoulder.

"'E's a bloody uppity sort of man, isn't he?" Jack muttered to himself, dismissing the fact that Aragorn was, after all, a king. Turning, he set off to find a different route to take to Robin's room, to make sure it didn't seem as if he was following Aragorn.

Meanwhile, Aragorn was sitting on the edge of Erindi's bed and smiling at her in what he hoped was a cheeful manner... while, on the inside, was completely disgusted with himself. "A hunting party?" Erindi repeated slowly, not sure what to think of this sudden new development.

"Yes." Knowing she was a vegetarian, he plowed on, hating himself for doing exactly as Jack had suggested even as he continued the false story. He'd pay for it later, he knew, but for now at least he had one less thing to worry about. "We're not hunting for pleasure, you know. It will be winter in a few months, and we need to make sure we're well-prepared."

"I just didn't think Jack was the type to go on this sort of thing, especially with you," Erindi returned. Her brow was furrowed in thought as she tried to puzzle out what exactly would cause such a thing to occur. Why _would_ Jack agree to something like going on a trip with Aragorn, unless he had something to gain from it?

Aragorn, understanding her train of thought better than she would have guessed, knew exactly what she was thinking. "I promised him I'd find him a good supply of rum if he came with me," he explained.

Erindi's eyes gleamed with amusement at that, but her suspicions were not completely cleared away. She sensed he was not telling her something, and the fact that he was hiding it from her only made her more eager to learn what it was. "And why would you go through all this trouble to get him to come?"

Aragorn thought a moment. "I was thinking that if we're going to make the two of you happy, then we'd better learn to get along… somewhat. And since I need to go on this trip either way, I decided it was best to ask him to come along. Better to resolve our differences in private, rather than risk dragging anyone else into it and causing a scene – and you know he would," he added when she began to smile.

_You're still keeping something from me,_ she thought, but decided that, for now, she'd have to accept what he was telling her. After all, she was certain she'd find out sooner or later what it was – she hoped she'd find out from Aragorn himself. "All right. Will it take long?"

"Only about a week." He leaned in to kiss her for a moment, tenderly, silently apologizing for his deception. "I promise I'll look for you first when we return."

"Then you'd better hope I'm not with one of my other boyfriends when you do," she answered smoothly, laughing when his expression turned sour.

Luckily for Jack, Robin was much more accepting of the fallacy. Rather than reacting with Erindi's immediate suspicion, she was delighted with the idea of Aragorn and Jack trying to settle their differences on a hunting trip. "I'm so proud of you both," she laughed, hopping to her feet and throwing her arms around Jack. For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt, but he quickly brushed it away, telling himself it was all for the best. "Though I can't believe you actually agreed to something Aragorn suggested."

"Aragorn? Love, I was the one who came up with it," he began, and frowned when she laughed once more.

"Now that I truly can't believe. You're not exactly the hunting type. I'm not saying," she added quickly when he opened his mouth to argue, "that you're not perfectly capable of hunting well. All I'm saying is that it's not exactly a pastime of yours. Tell me, did he offer you anything as payment?"

"Payment?" Jack scoffed, though the idea brought a gleam to his eyes. "He didn't need to pay me to go with him. Just because I loathe the man doesn't mean he needs to bribe me to settle a score with him."

Robin only shook her head, dismissing his denial as easily as swatting away a fly. "I suppose I should just be grateful you agreed to it at all, and leave it at that. When are you two leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning," he answered resignedly, sobered by the early awakening he knew Aragorn would force upon him. Knowing the Ranger, he'd be wanting to leave at the crack of dawn – a point in time which Jack only appreciated if he was still asleep during it.

Robin, too, sobered a little at his answer, though for different reasons. "So soon? I'll miss you." She wrapped her arms around his neck again, leaning into him when he returned the embrace. "You'll be back soon, won't you?"

"We'll be gone seven days at the most, and we'll be back before you know it." He kissed the top of her head, wondering how true that would prove to be.

"Promise?" Robin murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt as she pressed her face into it.

"Promise." Inwardly, he winced, knowing this was a promise he might not keep.


	9. The Woman of Secret Shadow

Oh yes, I'm on a roll. Luckily for you, this chapter is not as chock-full of history as the last one... no lengthy explanations here, I promise. However, there are many allusions to history, for those of you who know to look for it... if you're interested, make sure to read the author's note at the end when you're done reading the chapter. ;)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. T-T

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**Chapter ****Nine: The Woman of Secret Shadow**

Jack's prediction about Aragorn waking him up at dawn came true – and, unfortunately was repeated every day of the trip. No matter how much Jack complained, or how uncooperative he could be that early in the morning, he somehow always ended up trudging after Aragorn in those early hours anyway, promising himself the whole way that he would shove Aragorn off of the nearest cliff the next chance he got. For three days, they walked (Aragorn had refused to take horses) from sunup to sundown, and just as Bergil had said, they met no resistance and found no traces of enemies along the way. In fact, they met no one at all, having steered clear of towns like Pelargir, until they reached the mouth of the Anduin river in the late afternoon of the third day.

Aragorn and Jack, hidden in the shade of a small stretch of trees that lay close to the river, stared in grim silence at the gathering of pirate vessels. There were much more than a score of them now – as Bergil had guessed, more had been on the way. And there, at the very front of the gathering, was none other than Jack's beloved ship, the _Black Pearl_. Jack's breath caught in his throat for a moment at the sight of her. It had been more than a year since he'd last seen her, and even in the scurvy hands of the corsairs, she seemed even more beautiful than he remembered. Glaring at the pirates working on deck and in the rigging, he had just begun working on a plan to get his ship back from them when suddenly, something caught his eye. Squinting, he reached for the spyglass that still hung at his belt. "What is it?" Aragorn asked quietly.

"Bloody hell," Jack muttered as his target came into focus.

Though Aragorn's eyes were quite nearly as sharp as an Elf's, he was still only human, and could not see what Jack had noticed without the aid of his spyglass. Since Jack was apparently at a loss for words, Aragorn decided to take the easy route – and snatched it right out of Jack's hands. Jack swore at him, but Aragorn coolly ignored him, and turned the spyglass on the _Pearl_. When he saw what had gotten Jack's attention, he muttered an oath of his own. "They've got your crew."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Jack sneered, and snatched his spyglass back, wiping it on his sleeve as if to get rid of Aragorn-germs before reattaching it to his belt. "I didn't exactly need you to tell me that; that's what the spyglass is for."

Again, Aragorn ignored him. "It makes sense that they'd be kept alive," he mused. "They know the ship the best, and since they're by far outnumbered, they have to do as they're told. I doubt they joined the corsairs willingly; they must've been taken by surprise." He paused. "Still, we have to be careful. Even if your crew is on our side, the others are definitely not. Stay close to me," he cautioned Jack sternly.

"I can take care of myself, you know," Jack shot back.

"Which is exactly why you've died before?" Aragorn returned. Jack glowered at him darkly. "Listen. Tia Dalma's not here to bring you back to life again. If you die here, you stay dead. So be careful." Jack nodded stiffly. "All right." Backing away from the edge of the trees, Aragorn motioned to Jack to follow, and together they found a spot to camp out until the cover of nightfall. And as they waited, they planned.

When at last the silver fingernail-sliver of the moon had risen in the dark, clear skies, two shadows silently made their way across the opening towards the beach beside the mouth of the river. There, they saw smoke rising from a campfire, and, when they peered carefully over a particularly large and convenient sand-dune, they saw – and heard – the council of pirate captains they'd been looking for. There were far more ships than there were captains around this campfire, but judging by their clothing and the authoritative way they spoke, it was easy to assume they were the highest-ranking captains in the fleet. Aragorn and Jack shared a wary glance, and settled in to listen, and discover what they could.

"I tell you, I don't like it," said one especially large and revolting captain. He had beady eyes, the sort that make you think of beetles, and enough rolls of blubber to get him through more than one harsh winter. "They gives me the creeps, they does."

"Shhh," admonished another, a tall, skinny man whose gaunt face (and raspy voice) was more than a little reminiscent of a corpse's. "Keep it down. If _she_ hears you…" A collective shudder went through the small company.

"Besides," added a third, a strongly built man with a thick mane of dreadlocks to rival Jack's, "they've done us more good than harm. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them, would we?" The others murmured their assent.

"Still, you can't deny they've got an evil sense about 'em," the first pirate said, his multiple chins quivering as he spoke. "And they certainly ain't human."

"Well, of course they're not," acceded the skinny man. "They're…" Before he could finish the thought, a sudden silence descended upon the company, and a perceptible chill came into the air as a dark figure materialized near the fire. Though it was impossible it had simply appeared, there was no other word for what it did; it had seemed to come out of nowhere. Even Aragorn, who had been keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings just in case, started a little in surprise when the shadow came into view.

"Thuringwethil," the captains said in unison as they scrambled to their feet to bow to the figure. Aragorn squinted in the dark, trying to make out what exactly was standing there; though it was about the height of a human woman, there was something… wrong with the shape. Though he could discern well enough a pair of pale legs and leather boots, the woman – if it was indeed anything human enough to be called 'woman' – seemed to have something attached to her back that, because he could only make out a silhouette, hid the shape of her upper body.

With a wave of what could only be assumed was a hand, the figure motioned for the corsairs to be seated, and they followed the silent command immediately. "Is everything ready, my lady?" the whale-like man asked in a shaky voice. It was disturbing how frightened these men seemed to be of the one they called Thuringwethil; even the muscle-bound man with the dreadlocks watched her warily.

"Not yet, Herumor," the shadow said, and her voice (for that, at least, was feminine about her) was as sharp as broken glass. "We must wait until everyone is here. If this is to be the last stand of the corsairs, then let them _all_ stand together. You have waited ages for this; surely you have patience enough to wait just a little longer."

"Are we certain that King Elessar has had no warning?" the strong man asked. Though he was the only one to come close to outright questioning her, it was noticeable that even he avoided a direct inquiry by using the term "we" instead of "you."

Thuringwethil laughed quietly, sending a chill up everyone's spines. "You need not worry, Sangahyando," she replied airily. "You said that all of the members of that pathetic scouting party were dead, did you not?" The man nodded hesitantly. "Then you have nothing to worry about." She paused. "Even if you have somehow been mistaken," she continued, the edge coming back into her voice as she moved closer to the fire, "and someone _has_ warned the King, it still will make no difference. The beacons cannot be lit; my people have seen to that. Gondor cannot call to Rohan for help. Last night I sent two of my finest watchmen to guard the city of Minas Tirith – henceforth, not a soul shall come in, or out of those gates alive." She was close enough to the firelight to allow Aragorn to see her just a little more clearly, and though he still could not discern what she had attached to her back, he could see that she wore a black cloak, and beneath the hood of the cloak he saw the light of the campfire reflected in a pair of dark violet eyes. Just then, her gaze flicked up… directed at exactly the spot he and Jack were hiding.

"Down!" he hissed, his voice barely audible, and dragged Jack down behind the sand-dune, his other hand already on the hilt of his sword. He waited for one, two, three minutes, his heart pounding, expecting an alarm to be raised or even the she-creature herself to appear. But nothing happened, and slowly, quietly, he began to creep away from the dune and back towards the trees, motioning quickly for Jack to follow. He hardly dared let himself breathe until they were at last hidden beneath the concealing shadows of the tall beeches.

"What happened?" Jack demanded in a half-whisper as Aragorn paused to catch his breath. "And who the bloody hell was that?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I don't know who she was, though her name seems almost familiar. I thought she had seen us; we had best watch our step. There are far too many of them to fight, should we be captured."

"Not to mention it would be a lot easier to hold the King of Gondor ransom than to attack Minas Tirith," Jack added. Aragorn looked up sharply; of all the different angles and views of the situation he had considered, that was something he had missed.

"We still don't know what has caused them to believe they could win this," he said unhappily.

Jack leaned against a tree, his gaze traveling back to the pirate camp. "Maybe not, but I'd wager it has something to do with that woman."

Aragorn nodded. "Could you see what was on her back?" Jack shook his head, the beads and coins in his hair jangling quietly. "Her name is fitting, at least. Thuringwethil means, in common tongue, Woman of Secret Shadow." Jack chuckled humorlessly. "I don't believe she's human."

"Nor do I, mate," Jack agreed. "But it's probably in our best interests to find out."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Aragorn returned, sensing the gears in Jack's head were turning. "We can't risk going back there again, at least not until tomorrow night."

Jack smiled then, his teeth gleaming in the pale moonlight. "Don't you worry yourself over that, mate. I know exactly what I'm doing."

* * *

**A/N**: Okay, most of the allusions were really just names. Okay, actually, all of them were. ; The two names of the corsairs that are given are taken from earlier characters in Middle-Earthean history. Herumor, the _original_ Herumor, was a Black Numenorian who settled among the Haradrim and became a lord in the lands of the Harad. Even his name means "lord of the dark." As for Sangahyando... he is named after the great-grandson of Castamir the Usurper, basically the original corsair of Umbar. Sangahyando himself was also, of course, a corsair, and led a successful raid on the port city of Pelargir, even slaying Gondor's king at the time, Minardil. The third corsair's name, I know, I never gave, but he too is named after a LotR-historical figure: Fuinur, who was also a Black Numenorian like Herumor, and also became a lord. As for Thuringwethil... she, too, comes from Middle-Earthean lore, but I'd be ruining it if I told you who she was. So be patient, melonamin (that's Elvish for "friends") - all will be revealed in due time. ;) 


	10. Claws of Iron, Wings of Night

Hell, at this rate, I'll finish the entire bloody story within the next week! Goodness... anyway, yes, here's the next chapter. Read, enjoy... and prepare yourselves for a nasty shock. (bwahaha!)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing... except the Sim I created on Sims 2 to look like Thuringwethil, in order to keep a clear picture of her in my mind. Maybe if you all are lucky I'll upload it somewhere and post the link in one of the upcoming chapters... maybe. ;)

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**Chapter Ten: Claws of Iron, Wings of Night**

_It's a horrid day for them to come back_, Robin thought as she stared out of her window at the sheets of rain pouring down on Minas Tirith. _It might delay them a bit; I know I wouldn't want to travel though this if I were them._ She sighed; today was the seventh day Jack and Aragorn had been gone, the day Jack had promised they'd be home. Of course, she realized he couldn't possibly have known the exact day, but she couldn't help being impatient. She missed him, and despite having faith in both him and Aragorn, she couldn't help worrying about them, either. Pressing her forehead against the cool glass, she let her gaze wander across the courtyard below and down the tops of the lower tiers of the city. When her eyes had at last traveled beyond the gates of the city to the field beyond, they fell upon a small, dark shape moving towards the gates. Assuming without any reason at all that it was Aragorn and Jack, a smile broke across her face, and she raced across the hall to Erindi's room without a second thought. "Erindi! Erindi!"

"What?" Erindi groaned, looking up from her book. She was annoyed at being interrupted just when she'd reached the best part, especially since she was fairly sure Robin didn't really have much of a reason to come barging in like that.

Robin, however, felt that she did. "Erindi, they're back!"

Erindi raised her eyebrows and lowered her book, deciding that maybe she'd had a reason to come barging in after all. "Are you certain?"

"It's got to be them. Come on, let's go meet them at the gate!" Robin cried, grabbing Erindi's hand and practically dragging her down the hall, down the stairs, across the throne room and out of the main entrance.

"It's pouring out here! Can't we take a dryer route?" Erindi cried as Robin continued to pull her along, cutting straight across the courtyards rather than trying to stay under the awnings of nearby buildings.

"Oh, you can take it. You're not going to melt, are you?" Robin laughed as they ran.

They reached the first pair of gates just as Aragorn was coming through them. Forgetting the cold and rain, Erindi smiled and ran to meet him, and was delighted when he swept her up in his arms and kissed her, showing her he'd missed her just as much as she'd missed him.

Smiling, Robin looked around for Jack. But the gates had closed behind Aragorn, and she had not seen a second person come through them with him. "Aragorn?" she asked uncertainly as he and Erindi turned to face her. "Where is he?"

The moment of bliss he'd enjoyed when he'd first caught sight of Erindi began to fade, as he realized he'd have to tell the truth not just to Erindi, but to both women. Wincing, he reached into his bag and, pulling something out, held it out to Robin.

Robin snatched it from him immediately, panic zapping through her system when she realized what it was. Erindi gasped when she, too, recognized the object. "Jack's… hat?"

"He wants you to keep it for him until he comes back," Aragorn explained quietly.

Robin looked up at him, her eyes wide and her face pale. "Comes back? From where? Aragorn, what's going on?" Her voice trembled slightly, and she was shivering from more than just the freezing rain.

"Let's go inside," Aragorn murmured, placing an arm around Erindi and heading for the citadel. "I'll explain everything once we get a fire going." Clutching the hat like a lifeline, Robin followed.

A few minutes later, the three of them were sitting in front of the fireplace in Aragorn's room, all of them changed into dry clothes, all of them silent. Erindi was the first to speak. "You weren't on a hunting trip, were you?"

Aragorn shook his head solemnly. "No." In a flat voice, he told them about the scouting party he'd sent to the Anduin, and the news that Bergil had brought back with him. He explained that he and Jack had lied to the two women so that they would not worry, and would not be tempted to follow them on their trip to see the corsairs. Then he told them about the corsairs – and the shadow-woman – and paused.

"So… what happened then?" Robin demanded, her voice finally steady again, though she still had the tri-corner hat on her lap. "Did Jack come up with another one of his brilliant plans?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"… No, most likely not."

Robin gritted her teeth, infuriated with Jack even though he was not present. "Well, go on then. Tell us what it is. It's not like we can do anything about it now."

Aragorn grimaced then, causing both Robin and Erindi to frown. "Well…" He paused.

"You do at least know what his plan is, don't you?" Erindi pressed.

Aragorn hesitated again, and in that moment Robin exploded. "You mean you don't know what the hell he's doing?! You left him back there with no idea whatsoever?!" She leapt to her feet, and began to pace the room like a caged animal, glaring at Aragorn every few seconds while she spoke. "So, let me get this straight. You left him, _alone,_ keeping watch over goodness knows how many corsairs – who _won't_ hesitate to kill him – and some crazy woman you know nothing about other than she seems supernatural and her name is Thuringwethil?"

"Actually," Aragorn interrupted, "he's not alone. He's got his crew with him, at least."

"Yes, and a lot of good that-" Robin broke off suddenly, and an anguished look crossed her face. "You don't mean… he's not…"

Aragorn nodded.

"He's _on_ the bloody ship?!"

Again, Aragorn nodded, and both women stared at him in horror. "Yes. He says he's got a plan for getting the _Pearl_ back, though he wouldn't tell me what it was. Don't worry, Robin, I'm sure he'll be fine. He'll certainly blend in with the crowd."

"But if someone notices him…" Erindi began.

"They won't," Aragorn interjected sternly. His face softening a little at the worry in her eyes, he placed his hand over Erindi's and looked back to Robin. "He'll be fine. He's gotten out of worse situations before."

"Why didn't you stay with him, then?" Robin shot back, still seething.

Aragorn eyed her steadily. "I can avoid being seen if I wish," he said slowly, "but not forever. I would not have blended in as he did. Besides, I had to return. I need to prepare Gondor for this battle… and I must discover, if I can, just who – and what – this Thuringwethil really is." Squeezing Erindi's hand gently, he rose from his seat. "Now that we're dried off, that's probably exactly what I should do right now." He kissed Erindi's hand before releasing it, and turned to go.

"We'll help you," Erindi announced suddenly, getting to her feet. "We can look for the information while you give orders."

Robin nodded her assent. She looked calmer, though her eyes still glittered with a mixture of fear and anger. "Where should we start?"

Smiling wearily at them both, Aragorn began to explain how to get to the chambers containing the historical chronicles they would need to look through. Then, they parted – he to prepare Minas Tirith for the corsairs, and Robin and Erindi to discover Thuringwethil's true identity.

Jack, meanwhile, was pleased with how things were going. After the initial surprise and joy his crew had displayed the night he'd snuck onto the _Black Pearl_, they had thus far managed to pretend nothing had changed, as if he had been one of them the entire time. Since none of the corsairs of Umbar were particularly observant, he'd managed to blend in nicely with the crowd… though he did miss his hat quite a bit. It was a little comforting to know that at least it was in good hands – provided Aragorn hadn't lost it before giving it to Robin.

There were only two problems, really. One, that he hadn't yet found an opportunity to further his plans of taking back the Pearl. Two, that he also hadn't yet gotten a better look at the mysterious Thuringwethil. When he asked the crew about it, they would not speak of her – though for fear of her or because they simply did not know, he could not tell. So far, he'd noticed, she only showed herself at night, and even then she didn't seem very willing to spend too much time with the corsairs – not that he could blame her, really. He was a pirate himself, and even he could barely stand them.

That night, however, would prove to be a very interesting night indeed. As he watched the regular gathering of the head captains on the beach from a porthole on his ship, he saw, when Thuringwethil came, that she did not bother this time to wear a cloak. Though he could still not make out the dark shapes on her back, the firelight at least gave him a clear view of the rest of her.

She was tall – probably as tall as Aragorn, if not taller, Jack noted unhappily – and she moved with the grace of a ballet dancer, though she certainly seemed much more deadly than one. She had long, coppery tresses pulled back into a high ponytail, and the palest skin he'd ever seen – like white marble. Her tunic, breeches, and boots were all black (probably for less visibility at night, like the Black Pearl, Jack decided), and on her hands she wore the most frightening pair of gauntlets he'd ever seen. Rather than being rounded to fit smugly over the tips of her fingers, they extended for several inches into very long, very sharp-looking claws – _sort of like those Freddy Krueger movies,_ Jack thought, remembering some strange horror flicks Robin had made him watch when they'd been in her world.

Thuringwethil was too far away for him to clearly see her face, but all of a sudden he _felt_ a pair of sharp, purple eyes staring back at him, and it sent a shock down his spine like a bolt of electricity. More than a little startled, he quickly moved away from the porthole. He leaned against the wall and breathed deeply, wondering if he was going crazy or if the woman really was that uncanny. It was a few moments before he dared move again, and when he cast a last cautious glance out the porthole, Thuringwethil was gone.

Sighing, he turned to go up on deck (it was his turn to take watch anyway), and was met with a nasty shock when, upon emerging from the dark stairwell, he found himself staring directly into a pair of brilliant violet eyes. Crying out sharply, he stumbled back, and would have fallen back down the stairs if an iron claw had not shot out and snagged the collar of his coat.

"And who, exactly, are you?" the woman called Thuringwethil demanded, her tone as lethal as her claws.

Jack glanced down uneasily at the one attached to his coat; though he'd regained his balance, it appeared she had no intention of removing the threatening claw just yet. "Jack… Jack Sparrow," he said finally, though it almost pained him to leave out the "Captain" part.

"I see. And exactly how long have you been amongst us?"

Silently, Jack thanked Gibbs for what he had been able to explain about the crew's situation. "About two months, I'd say." He cocked his head, studying her face. She seemed even paler close up, and he wondered if she was sick, or part albino. Still, her strange skin tone took away nothing of her beauty; up close, she was breathtaking. She had long, dark lashes framing large, sparkling violet eyes the color of dusk, and full, sensual lips. She had high cheekbones and proud, arched eyebrows, giving her the semblance of royalty. She was one, he could tell, who was used to being in charge.

She narrowed her eyes at him; though – to his great relief – she did at last remove her claw from his coat. "I do not recall your face."

Jack adopted a hurt expression, unable to resist baiting her just a little. "Then you must not have been paying very good attention."

He jerked back as she raised her claw again, this time directly in front of his face. "Do not mock me, Sparrow," she hissed, and the sound of it set his teeth on edge. "If you want to live, then _do not mock me._"

Still glowering at him, she lowered her claw and stepped back. As she did so, the light of a nearby lantern fell upon her, and in the light Jack finally discerned what it was she had attached to her back. His eyes widened in utter amazement at the sight. "You've got wings," he blurted out, shocked.

"Of course I do," she replied, and chuckled darkly. Jack started once more when he saw, as she laughed, that all of her teeth were sharply pointed, more similar to an animal's rather than a human's. Turning away from him, she spread her bat-like wings to their full extent, each of them twice the length of one of her arms. She sprang from the railing of the ship and took off, soaring up into the dark night sky like a bird of prey, leaving Jack standing speechless on the deck of the _Black Pearl_.


	11. Ancient Foes & Old Friends

Yes siree, ANOTHER new chapter. And yes, you FINALLY get to find out who - and what - Thuringwethil is! Just a note, the bit that Robin reads straight from the chronicles (you'll see) is almost an exact quote from Tolkien - I believe it was in the Silmarillion, actually. Check the author's note at the end for further notes concerning... well, you'll see!

**Disclaimer**: Oh come on, do you really have no life that you actually bothered to read this? You know I don't own anything. Never have, and never will (unless by some miracle I suddenly own Disney one day! oh, if only...).

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**Chapter Eleven: Ancient Foes & Old Friends**

"Did you find anything?" Aragorn asked, closing the door to the records room behind him. The wide-eyed looks he saw on Robin and Erindi's faces answered his question for him. "Who is she?"

"It says," Robin said, glancing down at the page of one of the numerous dusty history books spread out over the table, "that Thuringwethil was a servant of Sauron." Clearing her throat, she found a passage and read aloud: "_She was the messenger of Sauron, and she was wont to fly in vampire's form to Angband; and her great bat-like wings were barbed at each joint's end_." Robin looked up at him, her emerald eyes as hard as the jewels they resembled. "_Vampires,_ Aragorn?"

A shadow fell across Aragorn's face, and he pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat as he absorbed the news. "I remember her name now."

"She was supposed to have died ages ago," Erindi said, checking another one of the huge chronicles. "It says she is assumed to have perished, or at least lost her physical form, in the destruction of Sauron's Isle of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, in the year 468 of the First Age."

Aragorn shook his head. "Apparently, she's gotten her form back." Looking up and meeting Erindi's eyes at last, he took a deep breath. "The term 'vampire' is just a loose translation of an older name for them, one we have forgotten in the ages that have passed since Thuringwethil's supposed death. They are not like the vampires of the stories in your world; they do not drink blood, and they do not turn into bats – though they do have wings, as the chronicle says, that resemble those of a bat's. They have claws at the tips of their fingers; long, curved things like a falcon's talons. And they do not have fangs, persay – their teeth are sharp, like those of a carnivores'… they do not live off of the blood of humans, but rather the humans themselves."

Robin groaned softly. "You mean… they eat…"

Aragorn nodded gravely. "Yes, they prey on humans – or elves, if they can get them. They are carnivores by nature, but they can be scavengers as well, if the need arises. In very ancient wars, they would… clean up… after the battles, leaving only bones behind."

Robin covered her face with her hands, breathing deeply to fight against the nausea rising in the back of her throat.

"They sound more like harpies than vampires," Erindi observed.

"Yes, that is a better name for them," Aragorn agreed. "They are ancient beings, fallen Maia – angel-like beings – who have been stripped of their magic, but they are still very powerful. They have not been seen since the fall of Sauron's Isle. It is my guess that they have been in hiding all these years because they were waiting for Thuringwethil to regain all of her strength."

Erindi frowned, not liking where this was heading. "Why would they wait for her?"

Aragorn answered simply, "Because she is the strongest. She is their general; she is their leader in war."

"And you left Jack at her mercy," Robin said quietly, lifting her head. Though still quite pale, her renewed wrath was helping her recover from her momentary sickness. "If she discovers he is not one of them…"

Aragorn leaned forward and grasped her hands. "I told you already, Robin, he won't be discovered. Have a little faith."

"Faith?" Robin exclaimed incredulously, shoving his hands away and shoving herself to her feet. "Of course I have faith in him – I trust him, and I trust in him. But do you honestly expect me _not_ to worry when he's surrounded by hundreds of corsairs – none of which care a whit for whether he lives or dies – and vampires that eat people alive? Don't you tell me it will be all right – and don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down!" She began to pace again, and Erindi shared a half-concerned, half-annoyed glance with Aragorn when she wasn't looking. "I spent an entire year of my life wondering where he was, what he was doing, and what would happen if, by some twist of fate, I managed to find him again. And just when that finally does happen – just when I get him back – _you_ tell me he's off on some insane adventure of his, with a plan no one knows, and you expect me to take this sitting down?!"

"I don't expect you to be happy about it," Aragorn interjected as she paused between sentences to breathe. "But you can't-"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do!" Robin yelled. When she turned to face them again, tears were streaming down her cheeks. "You-"

But before she could begin ranting again, Aragorn pulled her against his chest, locking his arms around her in a stern embrace. For a moment, she struggled fiercely; then, finally giving up in the face of Aragorn's strength, she began to cry, sobbing into his vest. Erindi came and put a hand on her shoulder sympathetically, wishing she could do more.

"I'm sorry," Robin said at last in a hoarse voice, pulling gently away from Aragorn. She brushed at her cheeks with a trembling hand. "I'm sorry I yelled at you… it's not your fault. I'm just so scared for him."

"We are too," Erindi said. "We're his friends too, remember?" She grinned at Robin crookedly.

Aragorn nodded. "I don't know what he's planned, but chances are he'll be with the corsairs when they come to attack the citadel. He can take care of himself until then. And once he gets here, I promise, I'll look for him during the battle. I'll make sure he gets out all right."

Robin offered them both a wan smile. "Thank you."

Aragorn cocked an eyebrow at her. "Better?" Inhaling deeply, she nodded. "All right, then follow me."

"Where are we going?" Erindi queried as she and Robin followed him out of the citadel.

"We've got a few weeks, at least, before the corsairs come. I'm assuming neither of you has any skill with a blade or bow?"

Robin blinked. "I took archery a few years ago."

"Good, that's one less thing to worry about." He glanced at Erindi, who shook her head. "Well, either way, you will both need as much training as possible before the battle." He paused, thinking. "I cannot train you both, but I do have a friend who wouldn't mind training one of you."

"I'm assuming that would be me," Robin remarked dryly.

Aragorn laughed, but did not argue. Instead, he led them to the courtyard where the White Tree stood, guarded on all sides by men in pristine Gondorian uniforms. There, beneath the tree, stood the most beautiful man either Erindi or Robin had ever seen. He had long platinum-blonde hair that gleamed in the sunlight – Robin touched her own strawberry-blonde tresses self-consciously at the sight of it – and a fine, almost feminine facial structure. His eyes were a shocking blue color, like the sky on a summer's day, and on his back he carried a bow and quiver of arrows. From his belt hung two lethal-looking daggers, the blades etched with Elven runes. "Legolas," Aragorn called, and the man – or Elf, Robin and Erindi realized – turned and smiled warmly at them.

"Mae govannen," he greeted them in Elvish, and came over to meet them.

Aragorn inclined his head. "Mae govannen," he returned. He placed an arm around Erindi. "Legolas, I'd like you to meet Erindi, and Robin. Erindi, Robin, this would be my good friend, Legolas of Mirkwood."

"Nice to meet you," Robin and Erindi murmured, amazed despite themselves at finally seeing an Elf in person.

"Legolas helped me get back into Minas Tirith undetected," Aragorn explained. "Thuringwethil said she had her people watching to make sure no one gets in or out of the city alive – I didn't want to take the risk of being seen if I could help it."

"We nearly were discovered," Legolas reminded him wryly. "We were lucky."

"But if it's being watched, how are you going to send for help from Ithilien, or from Rohan?" Robin asked apprehensively.

Aragorn and Legolas shared a grave look, and neither replied, their silence speaking louder than words.

"We did not come here merely to chat," Aragorn said once the moment had passed. Legolas's smile returned to his lips at the admission. "I come to ask a favor of you."

"Is that so?" the Elf asked, arching an eyebrow at his old friend.

"Robin and Erindi need to be ready for the battle; they have not had proper instructions with swords or with bows." Robin opened her mouth to protest, thinking of her archery lessons, but was silenced with a sharp glance from Aragorn. Apparently, he did not consider archery class sufficient training; she sighed, he was probably right. The class had been for fun, but this was preparation for the real thing. "Would you be willing to teach Robin?"

"I assume you'll be with Erindi, then," Legolas said with a grin, having heard much about both women from Aragorn. Erindi blushed slightly and shot Aragorn a questioning glance, which he ignored. The Elf nodded to Robin. "All right." Robin smiled shyly, inwardly jumping for joy at the chance to learn archery and swordsmanship from an Elf – and the Prince of Mirkwood, at that! "You don't have swords or bows, do you?" he asked, looking from Robin to Erindi and back again. Wincing, they shook their heads. "Or armor?" Again, they shook their heads no. Legolas cast an amused glance at Aragorn. "Then I suppose we should take care of that first."

Pretending that he had remembered the small detail of acquiring weapons and armor all along, Aragorn gruffly murmured his assent and led the way to the armory to find the equipment they needed.

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**A/N**: Oh yes (Sarah, you were right!) - Thuringwethil IS a vampire! Just... not the traditional, Dracula kind of vampire. She did exist in the original stories - like I said, that quote - "_She was the messenger of Sauron, and she was wont to fly in vampire's form to Angband..._" is straight from Tolkien. Unfortunately, that's the only mention of her, other than when Luthien uses her cloak to sneak into Angband on the Quest of the Silmaril. There are no other mentions of her - or of vampires - in Tolkien's works... the rest of Thuringwethil comes from my imagination, as well as the rules concerning the vampires of Middle-Earth in general. Since the traditional vampires didn't quite seem to fit in Middle-Earth, I figured I'd work on the fact that he said she flew "in vampire's form" rather than "she was a vampire." There is one greatly supported theory that Tolkien's use of the word "vampire" is probably intended as a translation of an unknown Mannish name for these monsters: bat-winged, but apparently otherwise human-like in shape. As for the carnivore thing, well, I took that from the bats that showed up during The Battle of Five Armies in the Hobbit - apparently, they fed upon the fallen (ew, I know), and it is speculated that these bats had something to do with the vampires, and might even have been vampires in bat-form. Going on what I've mentioned so far and what little was said of them by Tolkien himself, I came up with my own version of the vampires - which turned out to be, as Erindi said in the story, more like harpies than the vampires we're used to hearing about. And yeah, the actual description of her face and clothes and all that came straight from me - no research used (or available) for that bit. Sooo yes, vampires in Middle-Earth... who knew? Turned out to be good for me, anyway - this certainly livens things up a bit, eh? ;) 


	12. Waiting

Bet y'all thought I was going to break my writing streak, didn't ya? Well, I waited till the 11th hour literally (as I post this even, the clock has hit 11:30 PM), but here I am, posting yet another chapter in a row!!! Only a few to go, mates... and then... well, that will be the end of it. I'm telling myself there won't be a sequel - hopefully, at any rate, there won't be (I really need to stay away from trilogies for a bit) - but fear not: I've already got an idea for another fic once this one's finished... though it'll only please my _Pirates of the Caribbean_ fans. But eh, I'm sure another _LotR_ one will pop up eventually as well. In the meantime, continue reading, enjoying - and don't forget to leave a review! It makes me feel much better about myself when you give me feedback. (Thanks again to **Dawnie**, for your dedication to reading my stories and all the support you've given me, and to **Erindi**, for always pushing me to keep writing, especially when I slack off! XD)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Blah blah blah.

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**Chapter Twelve: Waiting**

"She's got wings. She's got bloody wings! Now, tell me again, Mr. Gibbs, why neither you nor any of the rest of my so-called 'trusty' crew found it necessary to mention this to me?!"

"Try to keep your voice down, Cap'n, or one of 'em might hear us," Joshamee Gibbs, Jack's first mate, admonished in a nervous whisper. They stood together, shivering without trying to show it, in the middle of a chilly night perched high in the crow's nest. They had put on the same shift together for taking watch, and Jack – after recovering from his shock of discovering Thuringwethil had wings – had joined him only moments before, furious and demanding to know why no one had told him about her before. But Gibbs had been in the company of the corsairs – and the winged lady – much longer than Jack, and he knew that talk like this could get them killed, if it was overheard by the wrong ears.

Unfortunately, his rather vague reference to "them" only served to anger his Captain further. "'Them?!'" Jack exclaimed almost hysterically, ignoring Gibbs' warning to keep quiet. "'Them' who? You mean there's more of them?!"

"Cap'n, _please_!" Gibbs begged, looking about fearfully for signs of the winged creatures. "Aye, there's more of 'em. And yes," he continued before Jack could burst out in another flurry of irate questioning, "they've all got those godforsaken wings. And if any a one of 'em should hear us talking so, we're dead men!"

Jack frowned, and cast a concerned glance around. "Exactly how many of them are there?" he asked in an appropriately hushed tone of voice.

Gibbs sighed with relief, satisfied that, for now at least, Jack would keep his voice down. "I've no idea, but enough to give these bloody pirates some confidence. From what I can tell, they're called vampires… only not like the ones from the stories. Maybe worse than them." Jack's eyes widened, and he stared at Gibbs in horror. "Did you see those metal claws she wears?" Jack nodded, remembering the way they'd glinted in the moonlight when the woman had threatened him with one. "They're not fake. Underneath the gauntlets, she's got real ones – they all do. And they've all got those pointed teeth, too. S'far as I can tell, they don't go out into the sunlight – that, at least, sounds like the tales we know. But I don't think it kills 'em; they don't seem weak enough for that. They can see in the dark; that's part of what make 'em so powerful. And they're strong, too – I've seen one of 'em lift a man twice his size before, and toss him away like a ragdoll."

Jack swallowed nervously; the more Gibbs talked, the more frightening it became to think that he'd gotten on Thuringwethil's bad side. "Do they… do the… you know… the…" He rubbed his neck absently, unwilling to finish the question aloud.

Gibbs shrugged helplessly. "I've no idea, Jack. I haven't seen anyone with bite marks, at any rate, and no one on the crew's disappeared. Seeing as they haven't got those special fangs _real_ vampires are supposed to, I doubt they drink blood."

"Maybe they eat normal food like the rest of us," Jack offered hopefully.

Gibbs gave him a sidelong glance. "Yeah, and maybe pigs can fly." Gibbs shook his head. "I don't know what we've got ourselves into, but I sure hope ye can get us out of it. Ye do have a plan, don't ye, Jack?"

Jack made a face; it was starting to get to him that nobody seemed to believe he knew what he was doing. Just because he wasn't actually doing anything at the moment, and wasn't sure that he would ever get the chance to at this rate, didn't mean he wasn't _planning_ on doing something. "Yes, Mr. Gibbs," he returned, a bit of his I'm-the-Captain-and-you're-not edge coming back into his voice, "I do have a plan. A completely and utterly fool-proof plan. Guaranteed to work."

Gibbs gave him a worried look. Whenever Jack talked like that, it meant things weren't going exactly according to plan. "What exactly is't you're plannin' on doin', Cap'n?"

Jack glanced at him unhappily, not wanting to admit that, at the moment, his plan wasn't going anywhere fast. In fact, he was starting to realize he might not be able to carry it out in time to avoid the battle altogether – a fact which, aside from making him very nervous, was also causing him to begin to reevaluate the value of his plan in the first place. But he had nothing else to work with, and there was certainly no way he'd be getting off the ship now; Thuringwethil would notice if he disappeared for sure. "That is classified information, for me to know and for you to discover when I'm in the mood for divulging it. And, seeing as I'm not in a very divulgatory mood at the moment…"

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Well of course not, Mr. Gibbs. You wouldn't want me to ruin the surprise, now, would you?"

"Actually, Cap'n…"

"_Mr. Gibbs._" Jack's voice was stern, and Gibbs, seeing that familiar stubborn gleam in his captain's eyes, decided it was time to admit defeat.

"Aye, Cap'n. As you wish." Silently, the two men gazed out into the dark night, each of them wondering just how well things were going to work out this time… if, indeed, they were going to work out at all.

It was nearly a month before anything as exciting as that night happened again. In that time, Robin and Erindi learned from Aragorn and Legolas enough about swordsmanship and archery to at least keep them alive in the upcoming battle, though it was plain to see Aragorn wished they could be trained more. They worked long hours during the days, training and – in Aragorn's case – preparing an entire citadel for an attack. He had tried numerous times to send out messengers, beacon signals, _anything_, but apparently Thuringwethil was true to her word – as far as he knew, not a single warning got past the walls of Minas Tirith. None of his messengers ever returned, and the runners he sent to light the second beacon never reached their destination. Eventually, for fear of losing too many men, he stopped trying altogether, and focused instead on preparing for the arrival of the corsairs – and the vampires.

Jack, on the other hand, had very little to do in the way of preparations – aside from the usual duties of keeping the ship in top shape and other related chores, there was nothing to do on the _Black Pearl_ but wait – and a maddening wait it was for him, especially knowing – as he had finally come to accept – that his plan of escape for the _Pearl_ would probably have to wait to be executed until they reached Minas Tirith. It was a very real – and very uncomforting – possibility, one that Jack despised. But, despite the dangers of this plan – and the fact that he would not, as he had hoped, be able to prevent the upcoming battle altogether – he knew it was all that he had to go on. There was nothing else he could do. And so he waited, and waited, and waited… until, at last, just after sunset on the third day of the fourth week, it was announced: they were setting sail for Minas Tirith!

Despite himself and the horrible situation he found himself in, Jack could not quite stifle a momentary lifting of his spirits as he watched the sails of his beloved ship fill, finally, with the wind. For one short moment in time, he was able to pretend that they were back in the Caribbean, and that the breeze he felt on his cheek was the touch of freedom, come to bear them wherever they would go… Then the harsh voice of Captain Sangahyando broke into his thoughts, and he had to force himself to remember that, for now, he was _not_ free – but he promised the Pearl that soon, as soon as humanly possible, soon they would be free again, and that he would never let her fall into an enemy's hands ever again.

When a guard at the top of the highest tower in Minas Tirith first spotted the black sails, it did not come as a surprise – for days, Aragorn had warned his people to be ready for the pirates. Nobody panicked, nobody lost their heads, and it was an almost painless feat to get everyone in their places – the women and children inside the main citadel and out of harm's way, and the able-bodied men and soldiers at their places on the walls, ready with their swords and their arrows. But as the ships drew closer, and the people of the White City saw just how many corsairs they were up against, even the bravest men felt a dark moment of doubt, for the corsairs were at least an even match to their own numbers – if not greater. But the worst of it was the knowledge that this was not all: even as the corsairs poured out of their ships and across Pelennor Field, advancing on the city almost like an army rather than the ship-rats they were, the people of Minas Tirith knew that, when nightfall came, something even worse would come with it… the vampires.

Jack was the only person within a hundred miles that was smiling, and it worried his crew to see the grin on his face. But as the pirates poured out of the surrounding ships, he knew that now had come the time to put his plan of escape into action. Just as soon as night fell…

A chill descended upon the deck, and the dark feeling that came with it wiped the grin clean off of Jack's face. Irritated at the interruption of his moment, he turned, and found himself facing not one, but _two_ winged monsters – one of which was Thuringwethil. The other was a male, with midnight-black hair and blood-red eyes that watched them almost unblinkingly. Gibbs was right; apparently, sunlight did not kill the vampires, though Jack could tell by the way they squinted and shifted uncomfortably that they certainly had no love for it.

"You will not leave this ship," Thuringwethil announced; her voice, at least, had lost none of its strength in the heat of the sun. "Agarwaen will make sure of it. If any of you attempt to leave…" Agarwaen licked his lips tauntingly at them. "Well… let's just say he'll appreciate the meal." Jack and Gibbs shared a wide-eyed glance. "I suggest you all go below deck, and wait there for our victory." She glanced at Tom, the youngest member of the crew who was only just past his 18th birthday, and smiled. "You're wondering why we're not making you fight. Do you take me for a fool? I know full well where your allegiance lies. We will win – but I prefer to keep the losses to a minimum. Therefore, you shall not be fighting. You all are being kept alive only because you know this ship well, and are the best at operating it. That is _all_ that is keeping you alive." She looked at each member of the crew sternly, her gaze lingering malevolently on Jack. "You would do well to remember that." Turning, she leapt off the ship and flew back to the one she had come from – the one that was now housing most of the other vampires. Within moments, she was gone, disappearing in the lower levels of the ship, leaving Jack's crew alone with Agarwaen.

"You heard Lady Thuringwethil," the vampire said in a voice like dead leaves. "It would be best to wait belowdecks; it's much cooler down there." Despite the way he phrased it, they all knew his words were an order, and not a suggestion.

Silently, they trudged down the steps, heading for the forecastle – and their hammocks. Jack came last, and as he passed the vampire, he noticed the beads of sweat trickling down Agarwaen's face, and the way his hand shook at his side… and he paused. "Ye don't much like the sunlight, do ya, mate?" Jack said slowly.

Agarwaen's unnervingly red eyes narrowed at Jack, and he wordlessly shoved the pirate down the steps. Though the vampire's iron claws had left painful marks on his back, he smiled a little to himself – they _did_ have a weakness, and that was enough to give him a little hope. Maybe things would work out after all.

For now, all he could do was wait – again. But this time, the wait would only be a few hours… just long enough for it to get nice and dark out... long enough for the _Pearl_ to become almost invisible against the night sky. Jack's smile widened at the thought of it.

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**A/N**: Agarwaen, in case it never ends up getting mentioned in the story, is the Elvish word for "blood-stained." Quite fitting for a vampire, eh? Just thought y'all might like to know. ;) 


	13. The Battle Begins

Well, guess I broke my writing streak. Oh well, at least I'm back now with a new chapter! Yes indeedy, we are getting close now... I think... lololol originally this was supposed to be 10 chapters. Not everything goes according to plan, eh? Anyway, yes, here's the new chapter - I apologize for the absence of Jack, but don't worry, I'll make up for it with the next one. Read, enjoy, and please review!

**Disclaimer**: No, my plans for world domination have not yet been realized. I still own nothing. -sigh-

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**Chapter Thirteen: The Battle Begins**

Among the strong young men and battle-hardened veterans that waited straight-backed and sharp-eyed for the attack stood two young women trembling with fear and anticipation. Neither had seen war before; the closest they'd come to it was watching an action movie in theatres. Though they had trained hard and had made much progress with both their swords and their bows, it would've been a lie to say they felt anything close to prepared to facing this. Still, they found themselves standing at the front of the Gondorian army, staring out between the crenellations of the outer wall as the corsairs began their advance on the citadel of Minas Tirith. It was both terrifying and maddening to behold, for the corsairs, though not the most organized of armies, knew better than to waste their energy with a mad rush to the citadel – but it was horrible to watch their slow advance, and with each passing second Robin and Erindi's nerves seemed to stretch tauter.

Inhaling deeply and with great deliberation, Robin turned her eyes away from the enemy for a moment to look upon the ships that lay still and silent on the Anduin. For a moment, her fear was forgotten as her eyes lit upon the grand, black ship that was taken to serve as their flagship. "Erindi, look!" she whispered, staring with wide-eyed wonder at the vessel. "It's Jack's ship! The _Black Pearl_." She smiled, faintly. "She's beautiful."

Erindi nodded. "Yes, she is." She glanced at Robin, and saw her friend's momentary joy slowly slide back into fear as she remembered the peril Aragorn had left Jack in when last they saw each other. "And I'm sure Jack came with her, safe as a plum in a pumpkin patch."

Robin gave Erindi a sidelong glance. "You know, that makes absolutely no sense." Erindi shrugged, and Robin sighed, and together they turned their attention back to the approaching mass of corsairs. Though they no longer shook with fear, their hearts still beat erratically at the thought of the impending battle.

"Gimli will never forgive us for this," said a new and now-familiar voice to their right, and they turned in unison to find Legolas standing next to Robin. He smiled at them warmly, showing not a hint of the terror they felt within. "He doesn't like it when Aragorn and I have an adventure without him."

"Which happens rarely, since you always seem to bring him along, regardless of what I say," said Aragorn, appearing as if out of thin air next to Erindi. He, too, was smiling, but his grey eyes were grave with the thought of what was coming. As quickly as it had appeared, his smile soon disappeared, and was replaced with a look of dark concern. "You two should not be here."

Erindi stared at him silently, but Robin's feathers were clearly ruffled, and she stood a little straighter and glared at him. "You two taught us well enough; we're as ready as we could possibly be, Aragorn." _Even if I am mad with terror and worry over Jack._

"Not nearly ready enough," Aragorn replied, and Legolas's smile began to fade as well as he predicted what his friend was about to say. "You should be with the other women and children in the top tier."

Erindi's eyes flashed, and Robin all but sputtered in her anger. "I'm not leaving you to fight on your own," Erindi answered with deceptive calm.

Aragorn cast a look across at Legolas. "I won't be alone, Erindi. We've been through worse than this before." _Much worse_, Aragorn thought. Legolas nodded his consent.

"Yes, and we all know you can barely take care of yourself, even with Legolas watching you," Erindi shot back, losing a bit of her self-control. After all, despite having survived thus far, Aragorn had definitely had more than a few very close calls in his lifetime. She looked up at him, half-defiantly and half-pleadingly. "I won't leave you."

"And I am going to be here when Jack gets here," Robin asserted, tossing her braid over her shoulder. "I'm not leaving, either, even if you are the King."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at her. "It is because I am King that you are going to leave. Right now."

"Aragorn!" Erindi protested, yet even as she did so a pair of guards came and seized each of her arms, while another pair grabbed Robin, who objected loudly and a bit obscenely at the sudden turn of events.

Aragorn looked at them sadly. "I would rather you go on your own than be dragged away like prisoners," he told them quietly.

Though Robin continued to swear at him, Erindi took a moment to truly look him in the eye, and when she did she saw that he told nothing more and nothing less than the truth. It hit her then just how much he was going through at the moment – not only did he have an entire city to worry about, but his friends like Legolas and Jack as well, plus the vampires – and now, her and Robin as well. She wasn't giving up, but she was determined to help Aragorn as well. Taking a deep breath, she looked him in the eye, fixing him with a steady gaze. "All right, Aragorn. We'll go." Because she was not lying, he believed her, and he motioned to the guards to let her go, though he was careful not to do the same for Robin.

As for Robin – she could not believe her ears. "What?!" she cried, enraged at the sudden turn of events. "Erindi, what are you saying? We can't leave! I have to see Jack!"

"Robin!" Erindi shouted, glaring at Robin sternly. The hard look in her eyes left Robin speechless. "We've only had a month's worth of training – what good will we be?"

"But…"

"Robin. We won't be anything but a burden. We'll only get ourselves killed – the best we can do is stay with the women and children, in case someone does get that far and they need people to fight."

"But…"

Erindi shook her head. "There's no point. We've got to go."

Her eyes glistening with tears, Robin hung her head, and the guards finally let her go as well. "All right," she whispered, defeated.

Erindi looked at Aragorn. "Be careful," she murmured, her eyes full of worry.

Aragorn pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. "I will. Thank you." He looked at her gratefully.

She looked away, unable to meet his thankful gaze when she knew quite well he would not like what she was thinking, if he knew. Turning, she grabbed Robin's arm and began dragging her towards the gates that led to the upper levels.

"Why?" Robin hissed once they were out of Aragorn's line of vision.

Erindi rolled her eyes, dropping at last her mask of deceptive resignation and self-control. "Robin, we're not really going to wait with the other women and children."

Robin stumbled, and would have fallen were it not for Erindi's grip on her arm. "What?! But you said…"

"Robin." She sighed, willing what little patience she had to last just a little longer. "I told him we were going. I didn't say _where_ we were going."

"Where are we going?" Robin asked as they passed the gates and continued on along the path.

"The armory." As if on cue, they rounded a corner and stepped through a doorway to find themselves in the middle of a room full of chain-mail and plate armor, weaponry, and shields.

"Ah." Robin frowned; they already had armor on, and they were still equipped with their weapons. "Um… why?"

Erindi grabbed a pair of helmets and tossed one to Robin. "So that Aragorn and Legolas won't recognize us easily when we go back out there." She yanked her helmet on, tucking her hair underneath it.

Understanding at last, Robin smiled wickedly and followed suit. "So we're fighting after all."

Erindi nodded. "We may have only had a month of training, but that will do well enough until the corsairs get here." She paused, her brow furrowing in thought. "It's when it comes to hand-to-hand stuff that we're in trouble."

"There's always other options besides our swords," Robin said cryptically. Erindi gave her a typical "Erindi-has-no-patience-for-cryptic-crap" look, and Robin continued hastily. "What I mean is, we can fight them in other ways. Maybe we can find somewhere on an upper level to continue shooting at them, rather than meeting them head-on."

"Maybe." They heard a commotion outside, and rushed out to find the men of Gondor nocking their arrows to their bows. "Hurry, they're almost here!" Quickly, they ran down the wall and elbowed a space between two of the men to stand, and hastily readied their bows as well.

The corsairs were almost in range! "Steady, men!" Aragorn called out from farther down the wall. "Steady!" His soldiers waited, their nerves and muscles as taut as their bowstrings. In just a few moments, the battle would begin. They watched with wide eyes and galloping hearts as the corsairs drew closer, closer…

Suddenly, the corsairs – knowing exactly how long the range of the Gondorian longbows were, broke out into a run, racing for the city as fast as they could, carrying with them hooks and grapples, ladders and ropes in hopes of scaling the outer wall as soon as possible. "Fire!" Aragorn shouted at almost the same moment, letting his own arrow fly as he yelled the command. Almost as one, the men – and women – of Minas Tirith released their arrows in a deadly rain upon their enemies. The battle had begun!


	14. Up is Down & Medieval Tactics

Ahahaha, another chappie! Only a few more to go now (hopefully)... reviews make me write faster (oh, what a liar I am), so please don't forget to give me feedback! XD

**Disclaimer**: Blahblahblah I own nothing blahblahblah.

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**Chapter Fourteen: Up is Down/Medieval Tactics**

Jack paced the length of the room, thinking over his plan and how he had changed it. Would it work? What if it didn't? What if- "Stop!" came the sharp order from the darkest corner of the room, and Jack whirled to look into the angry red eyes of the vampire Agarwaen. "Your restlessness annoys me. Sit down before I am forced to do away with you." Glaring, Jack slowly sat down against the wall next to Gibbs, muttering an oath under his breath. "I heard that," Agarwaen growled, narrowing his eyes at Jack.

_This one's even worse than Aragorn,_ Jack thought, recalling Aragorn's uncanny hearing abilities. He was distracted from his thoughts as a dull roar sounded outside. Ignoring the vampire's recent warning, he (along with some of the other members of the crew) rushed to the porthole facing land, and saw that the battle for Minas Tirith had begun. "Sit down!" Agarwaen roared, standing and brandishing his claws menacingly. The others tripped and fell over each other in their haste to get back to their places against the wall, but Jack made sure he was as slow and deliberate as possible about it, and smiled to himself when he looked up and saw Agarwaen seething but unwilling to kill unless he had to. Agarwaen knew Thuringwethil would not be pleased if he killed off the crew of the _Black Pearl_ without good reason.

Jack pondered his plan as he sat, for he'd still not worked out the details quite yet. He'd have to do away with Agarwaen first, to be sure, but how exactly he hadn't yet decided. Since these vampires were not of the traditional, blood-sucking variety, he had no idea if they could be killed with the regular wooden-stake-in-the-heart bit – or even if they could be killed at all. And, for all he knew, killing (or attempting to kill) Agarwaen might somehow alert the other vampires (he didn't quite know how _that_ would work, but he didn't want to take any chances). No, the best thing, he told himself, was to find a way to capture Agarwaen and keep him prisoner, at least until they were far, far away from Thuringwethil and her winged army.

The only problem was, he had seen exactly how fast vampires could be at night, when they were at full strength – or, rather, he had _not_ seen. But maybe, since they were so obviously weakened in sunlight, maybe it would slow them down just enough…

The other vampires were all hiding in the other ships, out of sight of the deck of the _Black Pearl_. And now the corsairs were in the heat of battle; they would not spare any of their attention on watching the _Black Pearl_, not while it was guarded _so_ well…

Jack nearly opened his mouth to speak to Gibbs about the plan, but caught himself just in time as he remembered Agarwaen would no doubt be able to hear him. Silently cursing the vampire's hearing abilities, he prayed he'd be able to carry out his newly-refined plan on his own. _Hmmm…_

Jerking as if out of surprise, he cried out and pointed at the porthole. "What was that?" he yelped, and ran to look out the glass.

"What? What was what?" Agarwaen got to his feet and went after the pirate.

"I don't know. Where'd it go?!" Jack's voice was almost half-hysterical, and the crew looked on in fear and wondered what their captain had seen. Even Agarwaen seemed a little nervous; what had Jack seen? Before the vampire could get a good look out of the window, however, Jack bolted to the other side of the ship, arms flailing in panic. "Now it's over here! What IS that thing?!" Once again, he moved just before Agarwaen could get close to the porthole, this time heading for the stairs. "I think it's up on deck!"

"Come back here!" Agarwaen roared, racing after the pirate. Gibbs and the rest of the crew looked at each other bemusedly, recognizing at last the same act Jack had used to escape a different dangerous situation in a past adventure (_up is down_, they said sardonically to themselves). But circumstances were different this time, and they wondered: just what was their Captain up to?

When Agarwaen emerged from the dark stairway into the bright morning sunlight, he yelped in surprise, temporarily blinded by the sudden change in lighting. Vampire's eyes, you see, adjust much more slowly to bright sunlight than human's eyes do, since they spend so much time in the darkness. It was this simple fact that Jack was now using to his advantage; just as Agarwaen's sight began to clear, Jack appeared in his vision, holding his pistol high in the air. Before the vampire could react, the pirate brought his pistol down hard on Agarwaen's head, and he crumpled to the deck, unconscious. Satisfied with how well things were going, Jack replaced his pistol on his belt and strolled back down below deck, captain once more – despite not having his hat.

"Jack?" Gibbs said uncertainly when Agarwaen did not appear behind him.

"You will refer to me in front of the crew as Captain, Mr. Gibbs," Jack told him haughtily.

"But…"

"No back-talk. Now, I want you and Mr. Cotton there to go up and fetch back that foul winged fellow ol' Agar... whatever-his-name-was, and take him to the brig. Marty, fetch some rope." Eyes wide with amazement, the three men scurried to carry out their orders, while the others slowly rose to their feet and looked at Jack questioningly. "You all, er… wait here," he said, and turned to keep an eye on Gibbs and Cotton as they towed the unconscious Agarwaen to the brig.

Before long, they had the vampire gagged and bound in chains and rope, using even the stolen pair of manacles Jack had brought once from one of his many escapes from the prison in Port Royal. His wings were bound as well, as best as could be, to prevent him from flying away to seek the help of the others. After Jack posted two sentries outside of the cell, he went back into the forecastle and sat down once more amongst the crew and their hammocks.

"What now, Cap'n?" Gibbs queried.

"Now," Jack replied, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes with feigned casualness, "we wait."

Marty cocked his head in confusion. "Shouldn't we leave as fast as possible?"

"No. If we leave now, someone will no doubt notice the huge, black ship sailing away down the river. But if we wait for nightfall…"

"We'll be nigh invisible in the darkness," Gibbs finished, smiling proudly at his Captain's plan. "It's perfect."

"I know," Jack said simply, and grinned.

Meanwhile, back at the citadel, the battle was raging on. Most of the corsairs had not yet scaled the outer wall, and men fell on both sides as the two armies traded arrows in the fight for the right to live in the White City. Robin and Erindi stood among the soldiers of Gondor, firing away and praying that the corsairs would never get inside the city. "What happens when we run out of arrows?" Robin cried, for she only had a handful left.

"We think of something else," Erindi shouted back. "Hopefully very quickly."

"Why aren't they using the trebuchets?" Robin wanted to know. She spared a puzzled glance up at the still war machines.

"What good would it do? Most of the corsairs are too close for the trebuchets to hit, and their ships are out of range."

Robin shook her head angrily, trying to come up with something, anything they could do to help, without getting involved in swordplay. She glanced around the citadel between shots, looking for an answer. _It's like a medieval castle,_ she told herself. _Think Middle-Ages wars. What did they do during a siege?_ "What about oil? Pouring boiling oil on them would slow them down, I would think!"

Erindi glanced up, surprised. "Yes, it would. Come on, we've got to tell Aragorn!" She cast aside her empty quiver and raced down the wall, and Robin hastened to follow her.

"But won't he recognize us?"

"He might, but this is more important. Besides, he can't send us away now!"

They very nearly ran straight into Aragorn in their rush to find him, and he had an arrow trained at them for an instant before he recognized the emblem of the White Tree on their armor. He lowered his bow, and stared at them long and hard. "Robin? Erindi?"

"Aragorn, I'm sorry I lied to you. Well," Erindi added as an afterthought, "I actually didn't; I more _misled_ you… but that's not the point. We can't keep shooting at the corsairs forever – we're going to run out of arrows."

Deeply disturbed, Aragorn could only nod. He was outraged, and he was terrified, but he knew better than to let it get to him now. But he promised himself he'd have a word with them the moment he took a break from the fighting.

"We need boiling oil," Robin said. "We can pour it on the corsairs, like in the Middle-Ages."

Well, Aragorn had no idea what she meant by the "middle ages" but he certainly understood the plan in general. "Go to the soldiers on the second level," he told them. "Tell them of your plan, and help them get the oil ready. Go now!"

Robin and Erindi nodded, and ran for the gates to the second level. It wouldn't be long before the army ran out of arrows; every second counted now.

The captain in charge of the soldiers on the second tier was none other than Bergil, and he understood instantly when Robin and Erindi told him of the plan. He relayed the orders to his men, and sent half of them with the two women to the kitchens to ready as many cauldrons of boiling oil as they could.

It was hot and steamy in the kitchens once the fires got going, and before long Erindi and Robin were red and drenched with sweat as they worked to produce the boiling oil for the army. Pot after pot of bubbling oil left the kitchens, carried as quickly as possible to the outer walls. Even as far from the battle as they were, those who were in the kitchens could still hear the screams of the enemy as the oil poured down on their heads. Soon, the corsairs would retreat to avoid the oil, and a much-welcome break would come in the fighting as both sides took a breath and considered what to do next.

The only person not looking forward to the break was Erindi. She knew that once the fighting ceased, Aragorn would come looking for her and Robin, and they'd have to explain just what they were thinking, and why they hadn't listened… and then avoid being taken to the top tier by force.

Their plan worked like magic, and before long, the corsairs had retreated back to Pellenor Field, just out of range of the arrows, yet too close to be trebuchet targets. For a while, things were quiet as both sides breathed. And, just as Erindi predicted, Aragorn came looking for them just as soon as he'd caught his breath. "What were you thinking?" he all but shouted as he paced in front of Robin and Erindi in the kitchen. Legolas stood quietly behind, keeping an eye on Aragorn to make sure he didn't get too worked up. "Why didn't you go to the top tier like I told you to?"

"We told you already, Aragorn," Robin said, her voice ragged from the heat and irritation. "We're not letting you fight alone. Legolas can't be watching you _every_ moment of the day."

"I can take care of myself," Aragorn shot back.

Erindi folded her arms. "So can we. We're not stupid; we're staying hidden fairly well. But just because we haven't drawn our swords doesn't mean we haven't been doing our parts to help win this thing."

"We're just as much help as any of the men," Robin added.

Aragorn grunted, and Legolas allowed a small smile to creep across his face as he watched. "I know that," Aragorn muttered as he paced. He turned to face them. "But you've never fought before. This is only the first day – and things will be much, much worse tonight." Robin shivered a little, remembering the vampires. Aragorn looked at them both, and saw in their eyes pure determination. He knew that sending them to the tier by force would do no good; they'd get out before long, and they'd fight again whether he liked it or not. He sighed. "At least promise me you won't fight tonight."

Erindi chewed on her lower lip uncertainly. "Will you?"

"I have to. I am their king. I cannot let my people face the vampires alone; they will panic, and they will have every right to… and that will be the end of it. I have to be there." _But please, promise me anyway,_ his eyes pleaded. "We won't be able to pour boiling oil on them. We will need the trebuchets, and our swords, and you do not have enough training using either to fight creatures such as these."

Robin looked like a frightened cat, terrified but bristling in anger nonetheless. Erindi only felt scared. "Aragorn…" She touched his face, knowing he was right this time but not wanting to admit it. "Please be careful," she finally whispered.

"I will," he murmured, placing his hand over hers. Robin softened a little, and held her tongue, though she desperately wanted to argue. She also knew Aragorn was right this time, and it only made her feel worse. But she knew better than to argue with good logic, and so she bowed her head and remained silent.

Erindi looked up at Aragorn. "Will you come and wake us in the morning?" she asked. _Though I doubt we'll sleep at all tonight,_ she added silently.

Aragorn kissed her softly for a moment, wishing the battle were already over. "I will," he promised, and kissed her again. Robin and Legolas shared a glance, and quietly left the two lovers alone in the kitchen, walking together outside to find a place by the wall to rest and wait for the corsairs to return.


	15. Long Night

We're getting closer!!! Only a few more chapters to go (if all goes well), and the end of the battle is nigh!!! And please, please, PLEASE trust me when I say: I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING. Okay?

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except my own evil plot-bunnies. Bwahaha.

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**Chapter Fifteen: Long Night**

That night was the worst night of Robin's and Erindi's lives. Up in the confines of the top tier, the women and children were kept far from any windows, doors or other openings, both to keep them out of sight of the enemy and to keep them from seeing what the enemy was doing to their brothers, fathers, friends, husbands and sons. The thick stone walls and the distance muted any noise they might've heard, and left most of what was happening to the imagination… and the horrible visions Robin and Erindi were seeing in their minds were not far from the truth.

Only an hour or so earlier, the fighting between the corsairs and the Gondorians had ceased, abruptly and unexpectedly. They had simply pulled back, and only Aragorn and Legolas had noticed they had chosen sunset to do so. There was a rhyme and reason, they knew, to the sudden event – why bother fighting now, the corsairs were saying, when the vampires will come soon enough? And so the pirates retreated, once again out of range of both the archers and the trebuchets, and set up camp for the night. Aragorn grimaced. By morning, they would be rested; his soldiers, he knew, would not be allowed the same luxury. It was a terribly good plan, he thought grimly: the corsairs would fight during the day, while the vampires came at night. They would take shifts, and each time they returned they would be rested and ready to fight again; meanwhile, he and his men would be fighting continuously, endlessly – they would be the first to tire, he knew, no matter how hard they fought. But there was nothing for it; he continued to send out messengers to Rohan and to Ithilien, in hopes that one, just one, would get through and bring help at last. In the meantime, there was nothing he and the others could do except keep up the fight and hope for the best.

For an hour after the corsairs' retreat, they had waited. There had been an eerie silence in the air as the sky grew dimmer and dimmer, and as the darkness grew, so did the soldiers' dread of what was to come. When the attack had come at last, it was terrifying, and nearly caused a panic.

Because the vampires had black wings and wore dark clothes, the soldiers felt the attack before they saw it. Men began disappearing – just gone, as if disappearing into thin air, and their screams were heard in the air as they fell to their deaths far outside the city walls. There was confusion and terror as the men craned their necks and drew their swords, searching for the invisible enemies that were stealing their comrades from their sides. Swords and arrows were drenched in oil and lit on fire, both to gain light and in the hopes of having a greater effect on the vampires. Then, at last, the vampires began to scream their war-cries, and the bone-chilling sound penetrated even through the thick walls surrounding the women and children far above the battle.

"What is that horrible noise?" a woman to Robin's left whispered nervously, clutching her infant girl-child to her breast protectively. There was not a person in the room who had not heard the vampire's cries, but only Robin, Erindi, and the handful of guards who stood at the entrances knew what the sound was – and knew it was better not to share the secret. Robin shook her head to indicate she did not know, but she was pale with the knowledge of what was happening. She and Erindi shared a hollow-eyed glance; they had promised to stay, they had _promised_. They would stay, but they knew they would not sleep this night, though nightmares would haunt them nonetheless.

The battle below raged on, the fire of the swords and flaming arrows balancing things out a bit for the Gondorian soldiers. Though they could not be sure they were actually killing the vampires, they knew at least that the winged demons could catch fire, and it would at least send them off for a while. The vampires, seeing that their original tactic had lost its use, began to use their iron-clad claws instead, swooping down and ripping unsuspecting victims to shreds from behind. A few even carried swords as well, for use when they could not get close enough to use their claws.

Hours of dark horror passed, with losses on both sides (or so the humans hoped, for the darkness hid any certainty that the vampires they slew were, in fact, dying). The screams of the vampires haunted those who waited in the top tier, and the flash of deadly claws in the night would forever be a part of the nightmares of the men who fought below. The night seemed to last forever, and the soldiers began to wonder if it would never end, if somehow the sky had been bewitched, and they would never see the light again. It was a disheartening thought, and became, for many, a fatal one.

Throughout the battle, Aragorn kept an eye out for Thuringwethil, but the leader of the winged creatures refused to show her face. _She's hiding somewhere, giving orders,_ he thought disgustedly. _She will not risk herself in battle until she's certain her side will be the triumphant one._ Then, as if on cue, he heard a cold and dreadfully memorable voice cry out behind him. Striking out with his sword at the vampire coming towards him, he sent the winged creature flying away in horror and flames and spun around to face the voice. A familiar pair of violet eyes stared back at him.

"You," Thuringwethil hissed, a wicked smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "You were the one watching us from the trees, were you not?"

Aragorn frowned. _So she did see us,_ he thought grimly. "You will not win," he answered her aloud. "My men will defeat you and your kind, and send you back to the darkness you came from."

She laughed, and Aragorn tried not to flinch at the sound. "You are outnumbered, you are overpowered, and you are weak. What makes you think you will win?"

"We have hope and truth on our side," he replied, and struck out with his sword. Thuringwethil laughed again, leaping nimbly away from his blade, and leapt into the air, spreading her wings to hover above him for an instant. Aragorn frowned; why was she not fighting? Instead of swooping down upon him as he expected, she flew out over the wall, calling to her army as she flew. And then, just as suddenly as they had come, the vampires disappeared into the night. Only then did Aragorn realize the reason for their withdrawal – the sky was beginning to grow light at last.

The King of the Reunited Realm sighed, and leaned against the wall for support. Though he had suffered no serious injuries yet, it had been a long, horrific night, and it would scar his memory for many long nights to come – if he managed to survive. "We have a few hours before the corsairs come," he announced to his men. "Get some rest while you can." Seeking out his friend Legolas in the crowd (the Elf, as usual, had not a hair out of place), together they headed toward the top tier to check on Robin and Erindi.

"Legolas," Aragorn said suddenly as they stood outside the doors to the main citadel, "Look with your Elf eyes out to the ships. It is still too dark for me to see clearly, but tell me: do you see a black ship with black sails?"

Legolas turned, and squinted. For a long moment, he was silent. "No, I do not," he said at last. "There is an empty place where the ship you speak of should stand."

At the same moment Thuringwethil, across the fields of Pelennor and standing on the deck of the ship she had chosen to remain in during the day, was realizing exactly the same thing. Her eyes blazed and her claws flexed as she took in what had happened, and she emitted a high-pitched shriek like to an eagle's cry, her wings trembling with her rage. "SPARROW!" she screamed, for she knew exactly who was behind the loss of her beloved flagship, and she knew also that it was too late to chase after him; sunrise was nearly come, and neither she nor the others could fly far during the day. Quickly, she chose a band of her best vampires to begin the chase the following night, threatening them with fates far worse than death should they fail.

Her cry of rage had been far louder than any of the vampire's war cries earlier, and it surprised and frightened the people of Gondor. Were the vampires returning? They cast their eyes skyward fearfully, but saw nothing. The women and children began to shift within their prison-like keep; they did not know what was happening, if it was even still night or not. Only when Aragorn and Legolas entered the room at last did they begin to breathe… and to question.

"Lord Aragorn, what is happening?" "What were those horrible sounds we heard?" "Is my husband alive?" "Has my son been taken?" "Where is my father? Will he be back soon?" The onslaught of questions, of searching eyes and desperately clutching hands was nearly overwhelming.

"The battle is going well," was all Aragorn would say. "There is still hope." Quickly, he motioned to Robin and Erindi to follow, and the two women, the man, and the Elf quickly exited the keep and headed for the throne room. When they were at last seated in the blessedly quiet and open room, Erindi threw her arms around Aragorn's neck and tried her best not to sob, while Robin dashed for the nearest window, shoving a guard out of her way when he tried to stop her. "Have you seen Jack? Is he all right?" she cried; from the window she had chosen, she could not see where the _Black Pearl_ should have been anchored.

Aragorn tensed, and Erindi, sensing his attitude, pulled away and stared at him searchingly, wondering what news he had brought with him. "I have not seen Jack," he replied stiffly.

Robin, hearing the tone of his voice, turned slowly to face him. "Aragorn… what has happened?" she asked, her own voice filled suddenly with dread.

He looked to Legolas, who gently led her to a window farther down the hall, and pointed out. From this new vantage point, she could clearly see the empty space the _Black Pearl_ had used to occupy. "I don't understand," she said slowly.

"Jack has left us," Aragorn said flatly. "He said he would save his ship from the vampires, and now he has done exactly that. He has left us, in order to protect the _Pearl._"

Erindi's eyes widened, and Robin felt her blood run cold. "He… he would not do that…" she whispered, staring out at the ships, willing it not to be true. "He would not abandon us."

"You know how much he cares about his ship," Aragorn answered, his voice still carefully level. Erindi sensed the anger lying just beneath the surface, and understood it even if she did not share it. Somehow, she simply could not believe it. Aragorn, however, did. "He saw his opportune moment, and he took it. It is what he has always done, and I suppose we should have expected it."

"It's not true!" Robin shouted, turning on him. "He's coming back, he will! He's just…" she trailed off, unsure once more. "He's just… getting his ship to safe harbor. Then he'll return. He wouldn't leave us." She covered her face, torn between wanting him safe and wanting him to return. "He'll come back," she whispered.

Aragorn shook his head. "I hope you're right," he replied darkly, and walked away, heading for the Houses of Healing to attend to the wounded men he knew were waiting there.

Erindi gave Robin what she hoped was a reassuring look. "He wouldn't leave you," she promised her, and hurried after Aragorn, praying it was true.

Already miles away aboard the _Black Pearl_, Jack couldn't help casting another glance over his shoulder, back towards the city he'd left behind. "Captain?" Gibbs asked uncertainly, seeing the look in his Captain's eyes. He did not know what Jack was thinking, but he could tell it bothered him deeply. Jack shook his head and forced himself to look forward again, towards the horizon ahead and away from what lay behind. _You're doing the right thing_, he told himself. _For once in your bloody life, you're doing the right thing_. Still, it was killing him to leave Robin and the others behind, without a word as to where he was going, or why. He only hoped they would understand.


	16. Vengeance

ZOMG... I return! Yes, I know, it's been about a month since my last update... sorry for that mates, I know you were getting spoiled with the almost daily updates before my disappearance. I'd like to say I have a valid excuse for it - in a way, I guess I do. I was immersed in _Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows_... can you really blame me? It's still hard to remember it's over, still weird to think there won't be any more books (well, aside from the encyclopedia-thing JK Rowling's planning, but that doesn't count)... but anyway, yeah. The point is, I'm back - and hoping to finish this off by no later than the 20th, when I've got to go back to school (dammit). So yeah, enjoy the new chapter, and cross your fingers - both for the characters, and for me meeting my self-imposed deadline!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Sigh.

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**Chapter Sixteen: Vengeance **

"I want to fight."

It had been another long day of fighting between the corsairs and the men of Gondor, and even the shadows that twilight brought now upon the White City could not disguise the toll it was taking on the soldiers. Robin herself was sitting in the healing ward, glowering down at Aragorn as he stitched up a particularly bad gash in her leg. Erindi, standing a little off to the side, remained silent as she watched them, absentmindedly worrying at a bandage covering her upper left arm. Twilight, it seemed, was the one hour of peace, the one hour they could breathe and rest and recollect their scattered thoughts... Or, in this case, argue.

"We've been through this, Robin. You and Erindi swore you would stay with the other women and children at night. I know you are upset, but…"

"That is not the reason!" she shouted. Aragorn heard the lie in her voice, saw it in the way her cheeks tinted pink, and, standing (for he had finished his task), he frowned down at her. "I can't stand it up there, hearing but not seeing what's going on. Whatever the vampires are like in real life, they've got nothing on what I've been picturing in my head. I will _not_ spend another night in there, Aragorn. You cannot make me."

"You forget," he replied quietly, his gray eyes dark and unfathomable, "that I am King here."

"And_ you_ forget," Robin shot back, standing unsteadily to face him, though he still stood half a head taller than her, "that _I don't care_! We are friends first and foremost, Aragorn, and I know you understand why I'm doing this."

"And that is exactly why I am not letting you," Aragorn interjected before she could continue. "Throwing your life away because Jack-"

"I told you, that's not the reason!" she cried, but her voice broke on the last word, and tears began to sting at her eyes. "I'm not throwing my life away… and I have no reason to. He's coming back. And if this battle is over before he even gets here… well, that's even better."

Aragorn stared at her for a long moment. "You're protecting him," he said slowly, and only Erindi detected the faint traces of anger beneath his otherwise flat tone.

"Or trying to."

"One more or less soldier will not make a difference tonight, therefore you _still_ have no reason to fight. You will do more harm than good by fighting, in fact – if you live, you will make little or no difference in the outcome. And if you die… well, Jack will find that a poor welcome indeed, if he ever does come back."

Robin paled as if she'd been slapped; Erindi winced. "Aragorn," the latter whispered, putting a hand on his arm and wondering if he'd gone too far. She knew he was just trying to protect them – and knew, also, that what he was saying made sense. But the look in Robin's eyes said he'd crossed a line, and she knew it would improve neither her mood nor her ability to reason. Aragorn himself kept his face carefully blank, though Erindi felt how tense he was as she gripped his arm.

"He's coming back, _Lord_ Aragorn. And I will be here when he does; you can count on that." Her voice trembled, but her fists were clenched and her back straight as she stalked from the room, heading unwillingly for the top tier to meet with the other women and children.

Once she was gone, Aragorn sighed, and sank down to sit on the chair Robin had so recently been occupying, drawing a hand over his suddenly weary face. Erindi's eyes were full of sympathy and worry as she knelt down beside him, taking his hand in both of hers. "Too harsh?" he asked softly, turning his eyes on her face with a look so full of penitence it was hard to meet it.

She smiled weakly, but nodded. "Perhaps just a bit. But I know you're just trying to keep us alive. And you're right; she's too upset now to be fighting. She'll be reckless. You did the right thing," she added, just a bit louder to make sure he heard.

He took a deep breath, seeing what was in her eyes. "Please don't ask the same thing she did. You know you can't fight tonight."

"She had one thing right, at least: the night's too long." As she spoke, he noticed for the first time the way her eyes were shadowed, ringed with dark circles – a testament to the fact that neither she nor Robin had slept between their two long days of battle. Aragorn gripped her hand tightly; he could only imagine how hard it was to be up in the top tier with the others, being the only ones who knew what was happening yet unable to do anything about it… having to wait until morning to see who had lived, and who had not. "I don't like to think of you out there without me; who knows what trouble you'll get yourself into?"

Aragorn smiled, but his eyes remained solemn. "I'll be all right. I've got more than enough to live for-" she blushed as he looked at her intently "- and I promise you, I'll be as careful as I can. But you know as well as I do that I've got to fight."

"Yeah, but you also need sleep." She gave him a meaningful look.

Aragorn opened his mouth to reply, but was instead cut off by a familiar shrieking war cry from outside. He grimaced, and leapt to his feet, dragging Erindi up with him into a tight embrace. "I'll sleep next twilight – or try to, anyway. Try to get some sleep tonight, and make sure Robin does as well. I'll see you in the morning, I promise." He kissed her. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, lingering just long enough to touch her face one last time before running out the door, shouting orders as he raced to the outer wall. Erindi stared after him, remembering only as someone shoved her out of the way that she needed to go – her pulse throbbing erratically, she turned and sprinted the other way towards the top tier, wondering just when exactly she'd lost her heart to him.

Meanwhile, Aragorn stood on the outer wall amongst his men, wondering exactly the same thing about his own heart. And, just as fiercely as he believed that his parting words to her were absolutely true, he was determined to keep his promise to her as well. He would come back to her, whatever else happened. He had to.

He inhaled deeply, forcing these thoughts unwillingly to the back of his mind as he braced himself for the attack – an attack which came more quickly than even he had anticipated. A claw shot out of seemingly nowhere and raked across his back, sending him crashing to the stone floor; he heard from the shouts of surprise and agony around him he was not the only one. The vampires, it seemed, were here.

In an instant, he rolled over and grasped his fallen sword, striking up and out just as the vampire was diving down for another strike. He heard a high-pitched shriek, more angry than in pain, and rolled away just as the deadly metal-clad claws struck out again, the vampire landing with a vengeance right where he'd just been lying. Shoving himself to his feet, Aragorn shoved his already oil-coated sword into the nearest torch, shouting orders to the others to do the same. The vampires screamed collectively at the sight of the flames, but they did not retreat. Instead, they fought all the more furiously, claws slashing and swords ringing out in the cold, black night.

Aragorn had not had much opportunity to look over the vampire that had attacked him before, but as he swung his flaming sword out in front of him to face her, he recognized with dark surprise the winged general herself. "Thuringwethil."

She laughed, her voice vaguely amused as she replied, "Very good, King Elessar. I see you know your history." Almost before she finished speaking, she struck out at him, but with a wave of his fiery sword he warded her off just in time; if she was planning to take him off-guard, she was going to have a hard time of it indeed. "I don't suppose you know how to defeat us?"

Aragorn grimaced; since she and her winged army only came out at night, neither he nor his men were able to tell if they'd done any damage at all the night before. Rather than answer, he slashed out at her in turn, but she nimbly leapt out of the way just before the flames touched her black tunic. "I'll take that as a 'no,'" she sneered, and, leaping again, took flight and, before he could react, grasped his shoulders painfully in her iron claws – he shouted in pain as the metal tore through his skin – and began to carry him towards the wall. "Tell me, Lord Aragorn," she said mockingly, "do you know how to fly?"

Aragorn's eyes widened as he realized what she was doing, and knew he had only moments left to escape. But just as the thought was crossing his mind, he saw something else on fire spinning dizzily through the air towards them; an instant later, Thuringwethil screamed, and together they fell just inside the walls of the city. Rolling away, he looked just in time to see the she-vampire yanking a burning Elven dagger out of her wing and tossing it over the wall in disgust. Glancing back, he nodded his thanks to Legolas and struck out at Thuringwethil before she could focus her attention fully on him; she leapt back again, but was not quite quick enough this time, and the burning blade cut a deep mark in her face and across her shoulder as it cut an arc in the air. Screaming in pain, Thuringwethil leapt into the air before he could strike again, flying towards the river to care for her burning wounds.

It was a retreat, of sorts, but he knew it wasn't over. He had caused her pain – something he was beginning to realize did not happen often – and she would not forgive him easily for that. She would be back. Taking a deep breath, he turned his thoughts and face from her retreating form and threw himself back into the fray, rushing to defend a young man nearby who was about to be ripped to shreds by his larger, more skillful opponent.

The night passed unnaturally long for Aragorn and his soldiers – but for Robin and Erindi it was even worse. Though they were both too tired to ward off sleep completely, they woke with a start every time an especially loud shriek penetrated the walls of the top tier, and their brief periods of sleep were riddled with nightmares full of iron claws and bat-like wings stained red with blood. Once or twice, Robin thought about giving up and trying to sneak out instead, but even as upset as she was, she knew it would do no good – she was too tired and too restless, and she would be killed. And, as Aragorn had reminded her harshly enough, she needed to live to see Jack return. She thought she understood why he might not believe Jack would come back, and now and then his doubt pricked at her own heart, but she never let it in. She had never believed in anything else so strongly before; there was no place in her heart for doubt this time. He _would_ return… she just hoped the fight would be won before he did. She tried not to think about what would happen if they did not win; the consequences were too grim to think of.


	17. A Difficult Decision

All rightey, another chapter! I warn you all now... this one's pretty sad. (That warning is especially meant to my good friend Erindi - get your kleenex ready, my dear!) _I_ almost cried writing part of it... and I'm the one who knows the ending here! And those of you waiting for the final result of the battle... well, first I apologize, because I originally intended THIS chapter to be the one that ended it... but a certain scene just popped out of nowhere and sent my original plans to hell. So, yeah, not this chapter... but fear not, the next one WILL finally resolve this fight, once and for all... keep your fingers crossed, _melonamin_!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except my desperate need to get Jack BACK into this story... somehow. (You'll see, mates, you'll see. There will be closure for everything, I promise you - no cliffhangers like a crueler person might leave you with. Whatever happens... it will be an end to this series. Nothing that might lead to sequels, I promise.)

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**Chapter Seventeen: A Difficult Decision **

When Aragorn stumbled into the healing ward, where Robin and Erindi were waiting for him from the moment they'd heard the fighting cease, the grim look on his face scared his beloved almost as much as the dark stains on his shoulders. "What happened?" Erindi cried, rushing forward to help him to a chair while Robin stared, pale and wide-eyed, her earlier anger with him for the moment forgotten. Legolas soon appeared at Robin's side, as of yet still fairly unharmed and his hair perfect as ever.

He shook his head, not wanting to shrug, and smiled wanly at her. "Just a scratch or two. I'll be all right in a moment."

Erindi rolled her eyes and cast him an exasperated look as she gently but forcibly removed his coat. "Aragorn you-" She gasped, forgetting her train of thought as she saw the bloodstains on each of his sleeves.

Aragorn sighed. "Erindi, it's nothing, I'll take care of it…"

"_I'll_ take care of it," she corrected him, and Robin immediately ran and got bandages and some medicine, handing them over to Erindi as Aragorn grimaced at them. "What did you do to yourself?" Erindi whispered, horrified, as she pulled off his shirt as well, revealing the deep gouges in both of his shoulders.

Aragorn winced as she began, carefully, to clean away the blood and grime from the wounds. "It was one of the vampires," he said quietly. "She… er… tried to carry me off the wall. But I'm all right," he added quickly when he saw the look on Erindi's face. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"'She'?" Robin repeated as Erindi turned her attention to applying the medicine to his wounds. "Any particular 'she'?"

Erindi glanced up at him, but he did not look at her. "Thuringwethil, to be precise." Both women flinched involuntarily. "I wouldn't have gotten away but for Legolas," he continued, and cast his gray eyes, filled with gratitude, to his oldest and closest friend.

Erindi, too, turned to look at the Elf for a long moment. "Thank you," she murmured. Legolas inclined his head, smiling ever so slightly. Shaking her head, she turned back to the task at hand, bandaging the wounds since there was no time to stitch them shut. "I _told _you that you couldn't take care of yourself," she grumbled, glaring at him as she worked.

Aragorn chuckled quietly. "I'm still alive, aren't I? Besides, as I said, Legolas is there to watch my back – just as I am there to watch his. We'll be fine." But his voice turned strangely flat as he spoke the last three words, causing all three of his companions to look at him questioningly. He sighed. "We cannot last much longer. Though the corsairs have suffered many losses, we have suffered just as many… and we do not have the luxury of a good night's sleep like they do. The men grow weary… if we have not won this by tomorrow, I fear we will have to leave."

"Surrender?" Robin whispered. Aragorn's eyes found hers, and he knew she was thinking of what would happen should Jack return to find the city overrun by corsairs and vampires.

"Not surrender so much as retreat," he replied. "Surrender would be certain death; but if a small force of my men can hold the wall long enough, the rest of the city can leave through the west gate and be gone before nightfall. They can turn north when it gets dark and head for Rohan; they will find shelter there with Eomer."

Robin was staring at him almost without blinking. "And what of the men who stayed behind?"

Aragorn did not answer.

Erindi felt her blood run cold. "Promise me you won't do anything heroic. Promise me you won't be one of the ones who stay behind." Her eyes pleaded with him desperately as her hands sought his.

Aragorn's expression was unfathomable as he answered, "Of course." But the look he and Legolas shared for just an instant said that this might be the one promise he would have to break. He could not leave his men to die, could not give them orders to carry out a suicidal mission without being there himself to see it through to the end… he was too noble for that. It was one of the reasons Erindi loved him – but at this moment, she wished that, just this once, he could be cowardly and run with them, should the need arise to run. The worst part was that, judging by the state of things, running would be the only option left, come the next morning's dawn.

As Erindi had finished bandaging his arms, Aragorn rose stiffly, pulling Erindi up beside him. He pulled his shirt and coat back on with some difficulty, and turned away from them. "Come. We must fight… again." Grimly, he led the others out and towards the outer wall for another long day of war.

It was horrible, worse even than the first long day when Robin and Erindi first witnessed the horrors of battle. At least then it had been a fair match – maybe even in their favor, considering how very skilled both Aragorn and Legolas were. But this was the third day of almost no rest for the men of Gondor, whereas the corsairs of Umbar had been able to rest each and every night… it was a slaughter.

Though the corsairs finally made their traditional retreat at twilight, it was more than clear which side had won the skirmish that day. For every man the corsairs had lost, it seemed like three were taken from Gondor's side… and when the vampires came, the losses would be even worse. When the four friends met again in the Houses of Healing at the end of the day, it was very clear by the look on Aragorn's face that he had made his decision. "At dawn, we must leave," he said, and his voice was rough with sorrow and weariness.

"And when you say 'we', that includes you," Erindi added, trying to sound more convinced than she felt.

He looked at her with anguish in his eyes, torn as he was between escaping with the woman he loved… and doing what he knew in his heart was the honorable thing to do. It was a hard decision, made even worse by his lack of sleep and waning ability to concentrate fully on something as difficult as this. "Erindi… I can make no promises… except one. Whatever happens… what I said to you before was true. I love you, and I always will." He took her hand and, before she knew what he was doing, pressed a ring – _his_ ring, the Ring of Barahir – into the palm of her hand. "Whatever happens… I want you to have this."

Erindi's eyes filled with tears as she recognized the cold metal object in her hand. "I don't think you're allowed to give me this," she said weakly, attempting to smile through her tears without success.

"I'm the King; I can do whatever I want," he chuckled quietly, and drew her into his arms. She began to sob, the sound muted as she pressed her face into his shirt. "Please, don't cry," he whispered, stroking her hair, tears glistening in his own eyes.

"Don't stay behind, then," came the muffled reply.

Aragorn closed his eyes. "There is a chance we will be able to retreat as well. If we do, we will meet you in Rohan – it will take awhile, because we'll need to take a roundabout path to avoid leading the vampires to you." He tightened his grip on her. "Remember that: we have a chance. There is always hope."

As if to prove him wrong, a faint but distinct screech sounded in the distance. The vampires were on their way. Erindi flinched visibly, and Aragorn pulled her away from his chest so he could look into her eyes. "Say it, Erindi. There is always hope."

Swallowing with difficulty, she forced herself to meet his gaze, and her voice trembled as she repeated, "There is always hope."

Aragorn nodded, and kissed her. "I have to go."

"I love you," she whispered, and he smiled, though his eyes were clouded with pain.

"That gives us even more of a chance, for no other force is as powerful." He kissed her again before turning away, leaving the room with Legolas at his side, unable and unwilling to look back.

Erindi stared after him, but Robin's eyes were on her friend's face. "He'll be all right," Robin said softly. "He always is." Erindi looked at her, and though her eyes were red from crying, they held determination as well mixed in with the sorrow; and suddenly, Robin understood. "We're fighting tonight."

"I have to. But you…"

"I'm coming with you," Robin said before she could finish. She smiled bravely at Erindi, and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Come on, let's get out there before the guards start paying attention to us."

Erindi smiled back at Robin, and together they slipped past the guards and out into the ranks of the men on the outer wall to join the final stand against the vampires.


	18. Dawn

There is nothing I can say without giving away everything. Therefore, I say only this: read, enjoy, and REVIEW DAMMIT!!! XD

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except for my aching wrists and neck from typing too much.

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**Chapter Eighteen: Dawn **

As before, the vampires attacked without warning, knocking many off their feet and some off of the wall itself as they swooped down like birds of prey upon the weakened, weary soldiers of Gondor. Robin could not suppress a scream as the man beside her was lifted up by one of the vampires and carried to his death beyond the wall, while Erindi barely avoided the same fate, slashing out with her sword only just in time. As they had the previous two nights, the soldiers lit their oiled swords with flames from nearby torches; Robin and Erindi followed suit, Robin staring nervously at the blade as it caught fire.

"Do you think she's here already?" Robin shouted to Erindi as they struggled to fight off foes they could barely see in the dark shadows of the night.

Erindi did not need to ask to know who Robin was referring to. "She's here, somewhere, I'm sure."

Erindi was right – but it was hours before the violet-eyed leader of the vampires made herself known to them, and the night was nearly over by then. Erindi and Robin had fought their way over to Aragorn, though they kept enough distance away to prevent being recognized. Robin had just ducked out of the way of a swooping vampire intent on dragging her over the edge when suddenly she heard Erindi cry out beside her. She looked up fearfully, terrified she had been hurt, but Erindi was looking towards Aragorn. Dread creeping slowly up her spine, Robin turned just in time to see his sword clashing with the claws of a tall, female vampire with black hair and dark purple eyes. "Thuringwethil," Robin breathed, and she thought the she-vampire spared her a quick glance, as if she had heard her name.

Aragorn did not notice her momentary distraction; he was too busy ducking to avoid the slice of her iron claws as she landed in front of him. She smiled at him, laughing when he nearly lost his balance after a particularly difficult evasive maneuver. "Give up, King Elessar," she jeered, "Give up while you still live."

"Surrender will only bring death faster," he replied, and knew from her answering hiss he was right. He slashed out at her again, missing her wing by mere inches.

She hissed again, this time in anger. "You will not win this war; surely you must know there is no hope for you."

Aragorn did not answer, for he knew that the second part at least was wrong. There was always hope… however little. He fought her until she was backed up against the wall, and, foreseeing what she would do next, struck up rather than out as she leapt into the sky above him. From the shriek overhead, he knew he'd struck her, and he whirled around to face her, wincing when he saw she was more angry than hurt. He had sliced through one of her wings… she would not be able to fly now, but she could certainly still fight. Her violet eyes burned bright with rage.

Screaming, she threw herself at him, knocking aside his flaming sword with one iron-clawed hand while she raked the other across his shirt. He cried out in pain as the metal tore through his chain-mail and into his flesh. Before she could claw at him again, he yanked his dagger from its sheath and struck out at her, slashing a painful gash across her right arm as she tried to evade the attack.

Grabbing a shield from a nearby fallen comrade, he deflected blow after blow, unable to deal any himself as she clawed at him with both hands. Erindi screamed and tried to get to him, but every time she tried to turn her back on her opponent he attacked again, refusing to let her escape him alive.

Legolas and Robin, too, tried to help, but were occupied just as Erindi was with their own foes; Legolas was even fighting two at once, and had no time to spare even to throw Aragorn a new weapon.

As for Aragorn, he tried time and time to reach down and grasp a fallen sword to fight Thuringwethil off with, but whenever he did so she threw herself at him with such fury he was forced upright again, simply to fend her off. As the fight dragged on, however, he knew he was losing ground – if he made one false move, he knew he would not live to make another.

At last, the moment came – he wondered if he'd known it would all along – when Thuringwethil launched herself at him and knocked him back against a wall. Pain exploded in brilliant colors in his head as his knees gave way and he sank down against the wall, fighting for consciousness and trying with numb hands to raise his shield and dagger.

Thuringwethil looked down at him with cold, cruel amusement. "What was it you said to me before, about your pathetic men defeating us?" she mocked, and raised a claw to deal the final blow.

But just as she was about to strike, a hoarse and pained voice was shouting her name for above. "Lady Thuringwethil! My lady, wait!"

Aragorn and Thuringwethil looked up, he in confusion and she with irritation as a young male vampire landed at her side, panting. Aragorn stared at him; he had never yet seen any of them in such a bad condition as this one was. His wings were bent and broken in many places (_it is a wonder he can fly at all_, Aragorn thought), and his bare arms were crisscrossed with rope-burns and scars. His face was pale and shadowed – more so than a healthy vampire's would be – and his blood-red eyes were wide with panic.

"Agarwaen?" Thuringwethil exclaimed, her voice as sharp as her claws. She was clearly displeased with him, even angry. "You were supposed to keep watch on Sparrow and his crew. How _dare _you return-"

"My lady," Agarwaen interrupted – and by this gesture, Aragorn gathered that whatever he had come to say _must_ be important: none of the other vampires, he was sure, would ever dared to have treated Thuringwethil like this. "My lady – the ships – look at the ships!" He screamed then, and pointed. Thuringwethil followed his gaze, and shrieked.

"The ships!" Thuringwethil cried to her vampire army in a voice which carried across the battle. "SAVE THE SHIPS!"

Answering screams sounded throughout the army as other vampires caught sight of what their general had seen. Agarwaen took off with the rest of the vampires, abandoning the battle to fly out back to the river; only Thuringwethil, with her maimed wings, remained behind. As her attention was diverted, Aragorn raised himself to his feet and looked out over the wall to see what the commotion was about – his heart leapt when he caught sight of what was happening.

All of the corsair's ships had caught fire – the flames rose higher and higher into the night sky even as the vampires sought vainly to put them out. But who had done this? Who had set the ships ablaze?

He heard a dangerous hiss behind him, and turned to find Thuringwethil eyeing him with a mad gleam in her eyes. "The ships were your havens," he murmured, understanding the true significance of what was happening. Without the ships, the vampires had nowhere to hide – and during the day, they would be just as mortal as any of the humans. Their advantage was gone; their only hope now was to win the battle before dawn.

"It matters not," she spat. "We will have the city before daylight comes. You will all die!"

"You're out of time," he replied, casting a meaningful glance up at the already lightening sky. "It will be light out soon, and when the sunlight reaches us, you will be defeated."

Screaming with rage, she flung herself at him; desperately, he leapt out of the way and away from the wall just in time, grabbing his sword from the ground at last and raising it defensively as he waited for her next move.

Just then, new screams erupted from the vampires across the Fields of Pelennor, and both Aragorn and Thuringwethil diverted their attention to the river. There, they saw the vampires had been taken surprise by a new army, one which she did not recognize but had Aragorn's heart soaring. "The Riders of Rohan!" he exclaimed as she turned to him, eyes blazing. "Rohan has come to our aid!"

Thuringwethil hissed, and crouched, launching herself at him with the vengeance of a goddess. He raised his sword, ready to drive it into her chest for the final blow… but he never got the chance. Just as she had her claws raised up to tear at him, she grew still very suddenly, her eyes widening and her snarl replaced with a stricken expression as she stopped. Aragorn, blinking in surprise, looked down to see the tip of a sword protruding from her stomach. As Thuringwethil groaned in agony, the first rays of dawn fell upon the White City… and as the sword was yanked from her now-mortal body, Thuringwethil collapsed on the ground, and was no more.

Looking up from her lifeless body, Aragorn met the hazel eyes of his savior with a new jolt of dark surprise. "Erindi?" he breathed.

Her entire body was trembling, and she dropped her bloody sword with a clang as she stared at him. "I… I'm sorry," was the first thing she thought to say. "I promised, but I couldn't stay behind again…"

"Don't apologize," Aragorn said, hardly believing his ears, "You saved my life." And, dropping his own sword, he pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair as she cried and soothing her in Elvish as he held her, telling her it was all right, and he loved her, and it was over. And, as he looked out over her shoulder at the river, he saw just how right he was – the Riders of Rohan had defeated the vampires, and they were riding now away from the charred remains of the ships in the river and the bodies of the fallen vampires and towards the white walls of the city of Minas Tirith. The corsairs – what few had escaped from the wrath of the Riders – had fled from the scene, never to return.

Robin ran over to them, hugging them both and crying as well, relieved that her friends were all right. Legolas joined them as well, smiling serenely even as Robin threw her arms around him as well, and he patted her on the back until she released him and ran to the wall, staring out at the approaching Riders.

"Are those the men of Rohan?" she asked, and Legolas nodded silently. "But…" she paused, and turned to Aragorn questioningly. "I thought none of the messengers were getting through yet?"

Aragorn frowned. It was true; Rohan should not have arrived this quickly. How had they known to come so soon? Pulling Erindi with him, he joined Robin and Legolas at the wall, staring down at the Riders waiting below. At the head of them was Eomer, king since his uncle had passed away during the War of the Ring, and on his right…

Robin gasped as she locked eyes with the man riding next to the King of Rohan. Aragorn stared; Erindi laughed, and Legolas smiled even more. "JACK?!" they exclaimed, realizing as one it must have been he who brought the Riders back with him. Aragorn felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he realized why Jack had really left – he had not been saving his own skin; he had been getting help, and thus had saved them all.

"Miss me?" Jack asked, tilting his head as he eyed them with a crooked grin.

Shrieking with delight, Robin seized one of the ropes the corsairs had been using to climb down the wall, sliding down to land unsteadily next to Jack and ignoring the hideous rope-burns the act left on her hands. He dismounted his horse (with a bit of difficulty) just in time to catch her as she flung herself into his arms, laughing and crying and yelling all at the same time.

"I knew you'd come back! I knew you wouldn't leave us!" she cried, and they all knew what she truly meant was: _I knew you wouldn't leave _me.

She pulled back enough to look at him, and he smiled at her, though the expression was suddenly bittersweet. "I'm sorry I had to leave at all, love," he murmured, and her gaze softened as she heard the apology in his voice.

"It's a good thing you did," she whispered. It was still terrifying to think how close they'd come to losing – everything – and she shivered a little at the thought. "I knew you'd come back." She paused, biting her lip a little nervously. "I love you."

A strange look crossed his face, a mixture of surprise and joy and a hint of fear – all at once. But then he smiled at her, his doubts erased. "And I, you."

"What happened to, 'my first and only love is the sea'?" Robin teased softly, her eyes wide with her own surprise. She had never expected him to love her back – he needed freedom so much, and love was binding. She was afraid to believe it was true, though the look in her eyes told her it was.

Jack grinned at her again, the cocky, devilish grin she loved so much. "I lied," he replied easily. "Pirate."

Robin stared at him for a moment… then, beaming, she kissed him, and he spun her around as she laughed again. When at last they pulled apart, they found that Erindi, Aragorn, and Legolas (who had taken the more practical route down the stairs and through the gates) had come to join them. Erindi grinned and hugged Jack, and Legolas nodded to him with a smile. Aragorn came last, looking uncertain and a bit guilty.

Jack frowned at the expression on his face. "What, disappointed I made it back?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Of course not… it's just…" He glanced at Robin. "I… didn't really believe you were coming back."

A hurt look flickered in Jack's eyes, but it came and went so fast that Aragorn wasn't sure he'd ever seen it. It was quickly replaced by an indignantly arched eyebrow, as Jack barely hid a wry smile. "Thought I'd get lost, did ye?"

Aragorn chuckled uneasily. "I apologize, Jack, for not having more faith in you. And I'm glad you made it back all right. Thank you… for everything."

Jack regarded him haughtily until Robin nudged him with her elbow, and then he sighed and nodded. "All right. You're forgiven. But I'll expect a reward for this eventually."

Rolling his eyes again, Aragorn held out his hand, and Jack, after a moment's hesitation, took it, and as they shook hands, all was forgiven. Erindi sighed in relief, and Robin smiled; she, too, forgave Aragorn – how could she _not_?

Someone above them cleared his throat then, and they all looked up to see Eomer looking down at them from atop his horse. "Well, Aragorn, are you going to let us in or not?" he asked, motioning towards the gates to the city.

Aragorn laughed. "Thank you, Eomer, for coming so quickly. And yes, you may enter." He and the others stepped out of the way as Eomer and his men rode into Minas Tirith, nodding their heads in respect to Aragorn as they passed.

Aragorn put an arm around Erindi, while Robin embraced Jack. The battle for Minas Tirith was finally over. The night was past, and the dawn had come at last – and with it, victory.


	19. A Debt Paid

And here we are, at long last... at the end of all things. I know I gave very little warning as to this, but this is, indeedy, the FINAL CHAPTER. The end. No more. Hey hey hey, I met my deadline! But before we say our final goodbyes (to this story at least), I'd like to say a few things:

Thank you, to all of you who read and (on occasion) review my stories. Especially to the reviewers: you make my day just a little brighter and you give me the courage to keep writing, knowing that at least _someone_ out there besides me is enjoying this.

Special thanks go to my most loyal reviewers... and friends. **Dawnie-7**, who's reviewed nearly every chapter I've ever written; **Ella Ynrihan**, who introduced me to in the first place and always told me to keep updating; **Shelby McQueen**, whose stories are fabulous and says such kind things about even the worst of my fanfics; and, last but not least, **Erindi** (aka **Angela teh Punk Hippie Platypus**), my oldest, closest friend, who I love like a sister and who's not afraid to be [brutally honest and who's been there since I started writing. Thank you, all of you... this chapter's dedicated to you guys. :)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except my sappy dedications and my own visions of Eris, Thuringwethil and the vampires of Middle-Earth (as well as those 3 random corsair captains I made up a few chapters back... and the terrifying Agarwaen, who did indeedy perish with the other vampires at the hands of the Riders of Rohan). I'd say Robin as well, but... well... I belong to Jack! And Erindi, well, she belongs to Aragorn. :) _Pirates of the Caribbean_, etc. etc., belongs to Disney, and _Lord of the Rings_ belongs to the one and only J.R.R. Tolkien, the best author there ever was and ever will be.

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**Chapter Nineteen: A Debt Paid **

The day passed in a blur of introductions and trading stories, for there was much to tell. When at last twilight turned to dusk, it was strange relief not to hear the war-cries which had so recently become the heralds of nightfall. Erindi had to support Aragorn on the way to his room; of all of them, he had been hurt the worst, and was without question the most weary. As she helped him to lie down on his bed, he smiled up at her, grasping her hand tightly in his. "It's hard to believe it's over," Erindi sighed, and sat gently next to him on the bed, telling herself she would only stay a few moments.

"They won't come back," Aragorn assured her, referring to the vampires and the corsairs of Umbar. "We are safe now." He sighed too, thinking of the work that lay ahead of him, his duties as King.

Erindi pulled something off of her right hand and held it out to him. "Your ring," she said quietly, for the battle was over and there was no danger of losing him now, and she thought (wrongly) he had given it to her only in case he would not see her again.

Aragorn took it from her, and studied the look on her face. After a moment, he took her hand again, and slipped it onto the ring-finger of her left hand. "I would like," he said as she stared, "for you to wear this for me." He paused. "As my wife."

Her breath caught in her throat at the enormity of what he was asking her. She gaped at him, opening and closing her mouth more than once… in indecision. She loved him, she knew she did, but… marriage? "I… don't know, Aragorn," she said slowly.

Aragorn smiled at her kindly, even through the flicker of pain that came and went in his eyes. "I didn't mean now, Erindi. But… someday." He looked at her hopefully.

She looked at him, torn between her love and her almost ingrained fear of marriage – her parents had been prime examples of what happened when you married the wrong person. She opened her mouth to form the word "no"… and paused. She remembered how lost she had felt without him, that long year she and Robin had spent without Aragorn and Jack… how much it had hurt to think she might never see him again. She had left an entire world behind for him, traveled through unknown forests and nearly starved to death looking and waiting for him in a city she'd only ever read about… she remembered the shock to her system when she'd seen Thuringwethil about to kill him… She looked in his eyes, and saw love there, and knew she could trust him. Slowly, a little uncertainly, she smiled at him. "All right," she whispered, leaning forward.

"All right you'll wear it, or all right you'll marry me?"

"Both," she said, and he smiled, and kissed her. They fell asleep not much later, Erindi too exhausted to leave and Aragorn too happy to tell her she should.

Meanwhile, Robin had led Jack to her room, not even considering asking him to find another, and he certainly had no complaints. As she locked the door behind them, she turned and smiled at Jack, who had flopped down on the bed unceremoniously, having thrown his belt onto a nearby table and kicked his boots of, generally making himself at home. "I have something for you," she said suddenly, recalling something, and Jack raised an eyebrow at her suggestively (which she ignored). She opened her closet and pulled out something dusty, discolored, and very, very familiar, and held it out to Jack.

Jack grinned widely. "My hat!"

"Aragorn said you wanted me to take care of it until you came back," Robin murmured as he replaced it on his head, her smile fading a little as she remembered the way her heart had nearly stopped when Aragorn had held the hat out to her. "It scared me a bit," she whispered, and Jack looked up at her, his eyes warm and full of apology.

He held out a hand to her, and she took it and allowed him to pull her down next to him on the bed. "I'm sorry," he said, for the second time that day, placing a finger over her lips when she started to tell him not to apologize. "I won't leave you again, love. Promise." He smiled slightly.

Robin looked at him for a long time, her lips parted slightly in surprise. "But… your ship… won't you want to sail now that you've got the Pearl back?"

Jack blinked at her. "You don't want to come?"

Robin's heart leapt at the thought of sailing with him, on the greatest ship there ever was (in her and Jack's opinion, at least), and she smiled so much it hurt. "Of course I do!" she cried, feeling a bit silly then for thinking she couldn't, and hugged him tightly. He was a bit thrown off by this sudden turn of events, but did not question it. Instead, he lay down, pulling her head onto his chest and his hat down over his eyes.

"I don't have to leave, do I?" he asked quietly, amusement clear in his voice.

She shifted a little, but she was so tired, and she knew she never wanted him out of her sight again. She shook her head. "No, Jack," she mumbled, her eyes already closing. "You promised you wouldn't, remember?"

Jack smiled in his sleep.

The next few months passed rather slowly for the four friends, and slowest of all for Aragorn, whose days were mostly taken up by the heavy burden of accounting for and taking care of all of the casualties, and repairing all the damage the corsairs and vampires had done to Minas Tirith. Erindi, Robin, and Jack waited for him – Erindi for the obvious reasons, and Robin and Jack because they had promised him they would. They planned to go to Rohan as soon as he was finished, for Jack had left his crew and ship waiting on the Anduin in Rohan territory, and Erindi and Aragorn wished to see them off.

Finally, after four months had come and gone, Aragorn summoned Faramir from Ithilien to be steward while he was away, and at last they set out for Rohan, following the river north as they traveled on foot. And, anxious as Jack and Robin were to get to the Pearl, they wondered how long they would be gone, and when they would see Erindi and Aragorn again… and they found their pace slowing more and more the closer they drew to Rohan, savoring what little time they had left as a group. They had been through so much, and none of them liked goodbyes. But, after all, it wasn't going to be forever – probably a year at most, Jack said – and they'd see each other again soon enough.

Eventually they found the Pearl, whose crew had loyally waited for their captain just as he'd asked; Jack breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the ship, for he'd been worried they might've left without him… again. He and Robin turned to Aragorn and Erindi… and they paused, at a loss for words.

"Well, we'll finally be rid of you," Aragorn said at last, chuckling a little and eyeing Jack especially.

"Hmph. Well, I know I certainly _won't_ be missing you," Jack retorted, and Robin and Erindi both rolled their eyes.

"_Men_," Robin said, feigning disgust, and she and Erindi hugged tightly. "I'll miss you both."

"And we'll _both_ miss you," Erindi replied, pulling away after a moment and sending Aragorn a meaningful look.

Aragorn nodded. "Her, yes. But Jack…" Both Robin and Erindi glared at him, and he winced a little, relenting. "All right… yes, we'll miss you both as well," he admitted, and held out a hand to Jack.

Jack made a face at it until Robin elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Still grimacing comically, he shook Aragorn's hand as quickly as possible before letting go and wiping his hand off on Robin's sleeve, as if to get rid of Aragorn-germs. Robin laughed, unable to help herself. "You two are horrible," she groaned, and hugged Aragorn as Jack embraced Erindi, ruffling her hair in an irritating fashion before letting go.

As Erindi struggled to fix her mussed hair, Jack sent a longing look over his shoulder at the ship, and Robin knew it was time to go. She swallowed a little, finding her throat suddenly constricted, and smiled at the King and future Queen of Gondor. "We'll see you again soon, won't we?"

"Sooner than we'd like," Aragorn grinned.

"You'd better go, before Jack has a conniption," Erindi urged her, as Jack sent another look over his shoulder at the Pearl.

Robin laughed quietly, and hugged them both again. "In Minas Tirith, then?"

"We'll be there," Erindi reassured her.

Robin smiled then, and took Jack's hand. "All right, Jackie-boy. Let's go."

Jack ignored the embarrassing (and amusing, in Aragorn and Erindi's opinion) nickname and pulled her towards the ship, eager to sail for pleasure rather than in flight, and more eager still to show Robin every inch of the ship he loved so dearly. The crew, seeing their captain approaching, lowered the gangplank and cheered as he and Robin stepped up onto the deck.

"You must be Robin," Gibbs said, shaking her hand warmly. "We've been told about _you_."

"Jack, what did you tell them?!" Robin cried, seeing the grinning faces of those around her as he led her to the helm.

"This and that," he said offhandedly, shrugging, and turned back to his crew. "What are you standing around cheering for?" he shouted, and they fell silent, staring at him. "Raise the gangplank! Hoist the anchor! Come on, come on, you lot know how this works!"

"Where are we sailing, Captain?" Gibbs asked as the rest of the crew scrambled to carry out Jack's orders.

Jack grinned, and pulled out his compass; now that Robin was his, it no longer pointed to her, just as it had stopped pointing at the _Pearl_ once he'd gotten her back from Barbossa. The needle swung around wildly for a few moments before pointing south, towards the open ocean. He relayed the information to Gibbs, who grinned and ran off to join the rest of the crew in their work.

As Jack adjusted the course of the ship, Robin waved one last time at Erindi and Aragorn, who waved back, smiling, before joining hands and walking off into the west towards Edoras, capital of Rohan.

Robin sighed contentedly, and leaned against Jack as he slid an arm around her waist. She thought of Aragorn's ring on Erindi's finger, and wondered if Jack would ever ask the same of her one day; she knew full well exactly what _her_ answer would be. Jack, seeing the wistful look on her face, pulled her a little closer. "Jack, do you think… I'd like to stay here. Permanently. Do I have to join the crew?"

Jack looked at her askance, pausing a moment to collect his suddenly scattered thoughts. He began to consider his options, what he could possibly say to her, for he saw through her seemingly innocent question and knew what she was truly asking him… and then he saw the look in her eyes, the hope mingled with love and uncertainty, a look no one else had ever given him before and quite likely never would. _Why not?_ he asked himself, and smiled at her, the corners of his mouth turning up into the devilish grin that was his trademark. "Not if you're wearing this," he murmured in her ear, and slid one of his own rings onto her hand.

She gasped, and threw her arms around him, delighted. "I hope that wasn't too much pressure, just now," she said after kissing him, realizing he must have known what she was thinking.

Jack laughed at the sudden uncertainty on her face, and kissed it away. "No pressure, love," he whispered, and she chuckled.

"Well, it took you two long enough!" said an annoyed-sounding voice behind them suddenly. Jumping, Robin and Jack turned to see an all-too-familiar figure, clad in her customary combination of purple and green, standing on the railing on their right, hands on her hips as her wings fluttered gently behind her for balance.

"Eris!" Robin exclaimed as the sprightly goddess leapt from the railing to land in front of them.

"Expecting someone else?" Eris joked lightly. Jack frowned, watching her hands carefully to see if she carried her notoriously painful wand with her to thwack him with.

Robin frowned as well. "What do you mean, we took long enough?"

"You mortals are _so_ slow," Eris griped, covering her face with her hands dramatically. "Aphrodite and I were beginning to think my debt would _never_ be paid off."

"Your…" Robin's voice trailed off as she remembered the debt Eris had made with the goddess of love, Aphrodite. "You've been waiting for us all to be in love."

"Not just in love," Eris sighed. "Engaged. And now you all are, and I can _finally_ move on to other projects." She giggled, a slightly scary sound considering it came from the goddess of chaos. "I can't wait!"

Robin stared at her, her mind awhirl with memories and feelings, all suddenly very confused. For a year, she had cursed the goddess – for bringing Jack and Aragorn into her life, only to take them away again. But… Eris had given Robin and Erindi a way to find Aragorn and Jack again, hadn't she? "We're not going to leave again?" Robin suddenly asked, her mouth going dry.

Eris chuckled, her face softening just a bit at the terror in the mortal woman's eyes. "No, darling, you and that Erindi girl are here to stay."

Robin and Jack both breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Then…" She hesitated, then held out her hand to Eris. "Thanks, Eris."

"Just paying off a debt," Eris replied nonchalantly, waving away Robin's hand dismissively. "Just don't waste what you got out of it!" Winking at Jack, she disappeared with a small _pop!_ – and this time, Robin knew she was gone for good.

"Good thing that wasn't weird," Jack grumbled, turning back to the helm.

Robin laughed. "She's gone, don't you worry. She's done here." She sighed a little. "I'm starting to think I'll miss her." Jack eyed her askance again, and Robin rolled her eyes. "Well, whatever. With you, I'm _sure_ I'll have more than enough chaos to deal with anyway."

"I can guarantee it," Jack agreed, smiling.

Robin smiled back, wrapping her arms around him and staring out at the river, imagining what the open ocean would look like from the deck of the Pearl, realizing that, at long last, she was _free_… and she had found her knight in shining armor. _Just because he doesn't actually have armor or the title of knight doesn't mean a thing_, she told herself, and grinned. _Besides, he's a Pirate Lord; that's gotta count for something._

Erindi and Aragorn stood watching from the top of a hill as the Black Pearl sailed away, waiting until the last sail disappeared from view before finally turning away. "D'you think they'll be able to stand each other that long?" Erindi asked jokingly.

Aragorn pursed his lips. "I know _I _certainly wouldn't be able to stand either of them that long. But… they deserve each other." He smiled at her. "I don't deserve you, I know, but…"

"Aragorn, don't be silly-"

"Erindi, don't argue." She raised an eyebrow at him indignantly, and he kissed the top of her head. "As I was saying, I don't deserve you, but… I'm glad you said yes."

Erindi laughed a little. "Well, I'd _hope_ you wanted me to say yes, otherwise you shouldn't have asked."

"Are you certain you want to be stuck with me the rest of your life?"

"Well, we're not married yet," Erindi replied, and Aragorn scowled at her. Grinning, she squeezed his hand. "Yes, Aragorn, I'm sure. Are you sure _you…_"

"Yes," he said automatically, and she glowed at how certain he was. "I've never been so sure in my entire life. Every king needs a queen, after all." He swept her up his arms, laughing as she cried out in surprise. "Queen of Gondor and the Reunited Realm," he mused. "And I the King."

Erindi shook her head. "Goodbye, Gondor." She waved in the direction of Minas Tirith.

Aragorn laughed, and began carrying her down the hill, directing his steps once more towards Edoras. "Never liked white so much, anyway," he said, referring to (of course) the White City of Gondor.

"We should repaint it," Erindi agreed. "How about obnoxiously bright orange?"

"The Obnoxiously Orange City of Gondor," he said slowly, and despite his efforts to keep a straight face, he broke into a grin. "I like it."


End file.
